CM  .IF    rwi**r>v    10!*  4NGELE8 


Other  Works  by 

THE    WILLIAMSONS 

The  Lightning  Conductor 

My  Friend  the  Chauffeur 

The  Motor  Chaperone 

The  Car  of  Destiny 

Lady  Betty  Across  the  Water 

Rosemary  in  Search  of  a  Father 


Look  at  me,"  she  said,  throwing  back  her  arms. — Vage  72 


The 

Powers  and  Maxine 


By 

C.  N.  and  A.  M.  WILLIAMSON 

Authors  of  "The  Lightning   Conductor"  "Rosemary  in  Search 
a  Father,"  "Lady  Betty  Across  the  Water"  "  The  Princess 
Virginia"  "The  Car  of  Destiny"  etc.,  etc. 


Illustrated  by  FRANK  T.  MERRILL 


NEW  YORK 

EMPIRE  BOOK  COMPANY 
Publishers 


Copyright,  1007,  by 
C.  N.  and  A.  M.  Williamson. 


All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  LISA'S  KNIGHT  AND  LISA'S  SISTER      .         .        7 
II.  LISA  LISTENS   .         .         .         .  .23 

III.  LISA  MAKES  MISCHIEF      ....      39 

IV.  IVOR  TRAVELS  TO  PARIS     ....      49 
V.  IVOR  DOES  WHAT  HE  CAN  FOR  MAXINE      .       76 

VI.  IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY    .          .         .  .87 

VII.  IVOR  is  LATE  FOR  AN  APPOINTMENT     .  .     112 

VIII.  MAXINE  ACTS  ON  THE  STAGE  AND  OFF  .     129 

IX.  MAXINE  GIVES  BACK  THE  DIAMONDS  .  .     141 

X.  MAXINE  DRIVES  WITH  THE  ENEMY    .  .150 

XI.  MAXINE  OPENS  THE  GATE  FOR  A  MAN  .     160 

XII.  IVOR  GOES  INTO  THE  DARK        .         .  .     189 

XIII.  IVOR  FINDS  SOMETHING  IN  THE  DARK  .     203 

XIV.  DIANA  TAKES  A  MIDNIGHT  DRIVE      .  .     213 
XV.  DIANA  HEARS  NEWS           .         .         .  .235 

XVI.  DIANA  UNDERTAKES  A  STRANGE  ERRAND     .     252 
XVII.  MAXINE  MAKES  A  BARGAIN       .         .         .269 
XVIII.  MAXINE  MEETS  DIANA      ....     288 
XIX.  MAXINE   PLAYS  THE   LAST   HAND   OF  THE 

GAME  .  297 


2133817 


LISA  DRUMMOND'S  PART 


The  Powers  and  Maxine 

CHAPTER   I 

LISA'S   KNIGHT  AND  LISA'S  SISTER 

IT  had  come  at  last,  the  moment  I  had  been 
thinking  about  for  days.  I  was  going  to  have 
him  all  to  myself,  the  only  person  in  the  world 
I  ever  loved. 

He  had  asked  me  to  sit  out  two  dances,  and 
that  made  me  think  he  really  must  want  to 
be  with  me,  not  just  because  I'm  the  "  pretty 
girl's  sister,"  but  because  I'm  myself,  Lisa 
Drummond. 

Being  what  I  am, — queer,  and  plain,  I  can't 
bear  to  think  that  men  like  girls  for  their  beauty; 
yet  I  can't  help  liking  men  better  if  they  are 
handsome. 

I  don't  know  if  Ivor  Dundas  is  the  hand- 
somest man  I  ever  saw,  but  he  seems  so  to  me. 
I  don't  know  if  he  is  very  good,  or  really  very 
wonderful,  although  he's  clever  and  ambitious 
enough;  but  he  has  a  way  that  makes  women 
fond  of  him;  and  men  admire  him,  too.  He 
looks  straight  into  your  eyes  when  he  talks  to 
you,  as  if  he  cared  more  for  you  than  anyone 


8      THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

else  in  the  world:  and  if  I  were  an  artist,  paint- 
ing a  picture  of  a  dark  young  knight  starting  off 
for  the  crusades,  I  should  ask  Ivor  Dundas  to 
stand  as  my  model. 

Perhaps  his  expression  wouldn't  be  exactly 
right  for  the  pious  young  crusader,  for  it  isn't 
at  all  saintly,  really:  still,  I  have  seen  just  that 
rapt  sort  of  look  on  his  face.  It  was  gener- 
ally when  he  was  talking  to  Di:  but  I  wouldn't 
let  myself  believe  that  it  meant  anything  in  par- 
ticular. He  has  the  reputation  of  having  made 
lots  of  women  fall  in  love  with  him.  This  was 
one  of  the  first  things  I  heard  when  Di  and  I 
came  over  from  America  to  visit  Lord  and  Lady 
Mountstuart.  And  of  course  there  was  the  story 
about  him  and  Maxine  de  Renzie.  Everyone 
was  talking  of  it  when  we  first  arrived  in  Lon- 
don. 

My  heart  beat  very  fast  as  I  guided  him  into 
the  room  which  Lady  Mountstuart  has  given  Di 
and  me  for  our  special  den.  It  is  separated  by 
another  larger  room  from  the  ballroom;  but 
both  doors  were  open  and  we  could  see  people 
dancing. 

I  told  him  he  might  sit  by  me  on  the  sofa  under 
Di's  book  shelves,  because  we  could  talk  better 
there.  Usually,  I  don't  like  being  in  front  of  a 
mirror,  because — well,  because  I'm  only  the 
"  pretty  girl's  sister."  But  to-night  I  didn't 
mind.  My  cheeks  were  red,  and  my  eyes  bright. 
Sitting  down,  you  might  almost  take  me  for  a 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  9 

tall  girl,  and  the  way  my  gown  was  made  didn't 
show  that  one  shoulder  is  a  little  higher  than  the 
other.  Di  designed  the  dress. 

I  thought,  if  I  wasn't  pretty,  I  did  look  inter- 
esting, and  original.  I  looked  as  if  I  could 
think  of  things ;  and  as  if  I  could  feel. 

And  I  was  feeling.  I  was  wondering  why  he 
had  been  so  good  to  me  lately,  unless  he  cared. 
Of  course  it  might  be  for  Di's  sake;  but  I  am  not 
so  queer-looking  that  no  man  could  ever  be  fas- 
cinated by  me. 

They  say  pity  is  akin  to  love.  Perhaps  he 
had  begun  by  pitying  me,  because  Di  has  every- 
thing and  I  nothing;  and  then,  afterwards,  he 
had  found  out  that  I  was  intelligent  and  sym- 
pathetic. 

He  sat  by  me  and  didn't  speak  at  first.  Just 
then  Di  passed  the  far-away,  open  door  of  the 
ballroom,  dancing  with  Lord  Robert  West,  the 
Duke  of  Glasgow's  brother. 

"  Thank  you  so  much  for  the  book,"  I  said. 

(He  had  sent  me  a  book  that  morning — one 
he'd  heard  me  say  I  wanted.) 

He  didn't  seem  to  hear,  and  then  he  turned 
suddenly,  with  one  of  his  nice  smiles.  I  always 
think  he  has  the  nicest  smile  in  the  world:  and 
certainly  he  has  the  nicest  voice.  His  eyes  looked 
very  kind,  and  a  little  sad.  I  willed  him  hard 
to  love  me. 

"  It  made  me  happy  to  get  it,"  I  went  on. 

"  It  made  me  happy  to  send  it,"  he  said. 


"  Does  it  please  you  to  do  things  for  me? " 
I  asked. 

;<  Why,  of  course." 

'  You  do  like  poor  little  me  a  tiny  bit,  then? " 
I  couldn't  help  adding—  "  Even  though  I'm  dif- 
ferent from  other  girls? " 

"  Perhaps  more  for  that  reason,"  he  said,  with 
his  voice  as  kind  as  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  if  you  go  away!  "  I  burst 
out,  partly  because  I  really  meant  it,  and  partly 
because  I  hoped  it  might  lead  him  on  to  say  what 
I  wanted  so  much  to  hear.  "  Suppose  you  get 
that  consulship  at  Algiers." 

"  I  hope  I  may,"  he  said  quickly.  "  A  con- 
sulship isn't  a  very  great  thing — but — it's  a  be- 
ginning. I  want  it  badly." 

"  I  wish  I  had  some  influence  with  the  Foreign 
Secretary,"  said  I,  not  telling  him  that  the  man 
actually  dislikes  me,  and  looks  at  me  as  if  I  were 
a  toad.  "  Of  course,  he's  Lord  Mountstuart's 
cousin,  and  brother-in-law  as  well,  and  that 
makes  him  seem  quite  in  the  family,  doesn't  it? 
But  it  isn't  as  if  I  were  really  related  to  Lady 
Mountstuart.  I  was  never  sorry  before  that  Di 
and  I  are  only  step-sisters — no,  not  a  bit  sorry, 
though  her  mother  had  all  the  money,  and 
brought  it  to  my  poor  father ;  but  now  I  wish  I 
were  Lady  Mountstuart's  niece,  and  that  I  had 
some  of  the  coaxing,  '  girly  '  ways  Di  can  put  on 
when  she  wants  to  get  something  out  of  people. 
I'd  make  the  Foreign  Secretary  give  you  exactly 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  11 

what  you  wanted,  even  if  it  took  you  far,  far 
from  me." 

With  that,  he  looked  at  me  suddenly,  and  his 
face  grew  slowly  red,  under  the  brown. 

'  You  are  a  very  kind  Imp,"  he  said.  "  Imp  " 
is  the  name  he  invented  for  me.  I  loved  to  hear 
him  call  me  by  it. 

"Kind!"  I  echoed.  "One  isn't  kind  when 
one — likes — people." 

I  saw  by  his  eyes,  then,  that  he  knew.  But  I 
didn't  care.  If  only  I  could  make  him  say  the 
words  I  longed  to  hear — even  because  he  pitied 
me,  because  he  had  found  out  how  I  loved  him, 
and  because  he  had  really  too  much  of  the  dark- 
young- Crusader-knight  in  him,  to  break  my 
heart!  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  take 
him  at  his  word,  quickly,  if  he  gave  me  the 
chance;  and  I  would  tell  Di  that  he  was  dread- 
fully in  love  with  me.  That  would  make  her 
writhe. 

I  kept  my  eyes  on  him,  and  I  let  them  tell  him 
everything.  He  saw;  there  was  no  doubt  of 
that;  but  he  did  not  say  the  words  I  hoped  for. 
A  moment  or  two  he  was  silent ;  and  then,  gazing 
away  towards  the  door  of  the  ballroom,  he 
spoke  very  gently,  as  if  I  had  been  a  child — 
though  I  am  older  than  Di  by  three  or  four 
years. 

"  Thank  you,  Imp,  for  letting  me  see  that  you 
are  such  a  staunch  little  friend,"  said  he.  "  Now 
that  I  know  you  really  do  take  an  interest  in  my 


11    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

affairs,  I  think  I  may  tell  you  why  I  want  so 
much  to  go  to  Algiers — though  very  likely  you've 
guessed  already — you  are  such  an  '  intuitive ' 
girl.  And  besides,  I  haven't  tried  very  hard  to 
hide  my  feelings — not  as  hard  as  I  ought,  per- 
haps, when  I  realise  how  little  I  have  to  offer  to 
your  sister.  Now  you  understand  all,  don't  you 
— even  if  you  didn't  before?  I  love  her,  and  if 
I  go  to  Algiers " 

"  Don't  say  any  more,"  I  managed  to  cut  him 
short.  "  I  can't  bear — I  mean,  I  understand. 
I — did  guess  before." 

It  was  true.  I  had  guessed,  but  I  wouldn't 
let  myself  believe.  I  hoped  against  hope.  He 
was  so  much  kinder  to  me  than  any  other  man 
ever  took  the  trouble  to  be,  in  all  my  wretched, 
embittered  twenty-four  years  of  life. 

"  Di  might  have  told  me,"  I  went  gasping  on, 
rather  than  let  there  be  a  long  silence  between 
us  just  then.  I  had  enough  pride  not  to  want 
him  to  see  me  cry — though,  if  it  could  have 
made  any  difference,  I  would  have  grovelled 
at  his  feet  and  wet  them  with  my  tears. 
"  But  she  never  does  tell  me  anything  about 
herself." 

"  She's  so  unselfish  and  so  fond  of  you,  that 
probably  she  likes  better  to  talk  about  you  in- 
stead," he  defended  her.  And  then  I  felt  that 
I  could  hate  him,  as  much  as  I've  always  hated 
Di,  deep  down  in  my  heart.  At  that  minute  I 
should  have  liked  to  kill  her,  and  watch  liis  face 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  18 

when  he  found  her  lying  dead — out  of  his  reach 
for  ever. 

"  Besides,"  he  hurried  on,  "  I've  never  asked 
her  yet  if  she  would  marry  me,  because — my 
prospects  weren't  very  brilliant.  She  knows  of 
course  that  I  love  her " 

"  And  if  you  get  the  consulship,  you'll  put  the 
important  question?  "  I  cut  him  short,  trying 
to  be  flippant. 

'  Yes.  But  I  told  you  to-night,  because  I 
— because  you  were  so  kind,  I  felt  I  should  like 
to  have  you  know." 

Kind!  Yes,  I  had  been  too  kind.  But  if 
by  putting  out  my  foot  I  could  have  crushed 
every  hope  of  his  for  the  future — every  hope, 
that  is,  in  which  my  step-sister  Diana  Forrest  had 
any  part — I  would  have  done  it,  just  as  I 
trample  on  ants  in  the  country  sometimes,  for 
the  pleasure  of  feeling  that  I — even  I — have 
power  of  life  and  death. 

I  swallowed  hard,  to  keep  the  sobs  back.  I'm 
never  very  strong  or  well,  but  now  I  felt  broken, 
ready  to  die.  I  was  glad  when  I  heard  the  music 
stop  in  the  ballroom. 

"There!"  I  said.  "The  two  dances  you 
asked  me  to  sit  out  with  you  are  over.  I'm  sure 
you're  engaged  for  the  next." 

"  Yes,  Imp,  I  am." 

"To  Di?" 

"  No,  I  have  Number  13  with  her." 

"Thirteen!     Unlucky  number." 


14    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  Any  number  is  lucky  that  gives  me  a  chance 
with  her.  The  next  one,  coming  now,  is  with 
Mrs.  George  Allendale." 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  actor  manager's  wife.  She  goes 
everywhere ;  and  Lord  Mountstuart  likes  theatri- 
cal celebrities.  This  house  ought  to  be  very 
serious  and  political,  but  we  have  every  sort  of 
creature — provided  it's  an  amusing,  or  suc- 
cessful, or  good-looking  one.  By  the  way,  used 
Maxine  de  Renzie  to  come  here,  when  she  was 
acting  in  London  at  George  Allendale's  theatre? 
That  was  before  Di  and  I  arrived  on  the  scene, 
you  remember." 

"  I  remember.  Oh,  yes,  she  came  here.  It 
was  in  this  house  I  met  her  first,  off  the  stage, 
I  believe." 

'  What  a  sweet  memory!  Wasn't  Mrs.  George 
awfully  jealous  of  her  husband  when  he  had  such 
a  fascinating  beauty  for  his  leading  lady? " 

"  I  never  heard  that  she  was." 

'  You  needn't  look  cross  with  me.  I'm  not 
saying  anything  against  your  gorgeous  Max- 
ine." 

"  Of  course  not.  Nobody  could.  But  you 
mustn't  call  Miss  de  Renzie  'my  Maxine/ 
please,  Imp." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  said.  '  You  see,  I've 
heard  other  people  call  her  that — in  joke.  And 
you  dedicated  your  book  about  Lhassa,  that  made 
you  such  a  famous  person,  to  her,  didn't  you?" 

"No.     What   made   you   think   that?"     He 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  15 

was  really  annoyed  now,  and  I  was  pleased — if 
anything  could  please  me,  in  my  despair. 

'  Why,  everybody  thinks  it.  It  was  dedicated 
to  *  M.  R.,'  as  if  the  name  were  a  secret,  so " 

"  *  Everybody  '  is  very  stupid  then.  '  M.  R.'  is 
an  old  lady,  my  god-mother,  who  helped  me  with 
money  for  my  expedition  to  Lhassa,  otherwise 
I  couldn't  have  gone.  And  she  isn't  of  the  kind 
that  likes  to  see  her  name  in  print.  Now,  where 
shall  I  take  you,  Imp?  Because  I  must  go  and 
look  for  Mrs.  Allendale." 

"  I'll  stay  where  I  am,  thank  you,"  I  said, 
"  and  watch  you  dance — from  far  off.  That's 
my  part  in  life,  you  know:  watching  other  people 
dance  from  far  off." 

When  he  was  gone,  I  leaned  back  among  the 
cushions,  and  I  wasn't  sure  that  one  of  my  heart 
attacks  would  not  come  on.  I  felt  horribly  alone, 
and  deserted;  and  though  I  hate  Di,  and  always 
have  hated  her,  ever  since  the  tiny  child  and  her 
mother  (a  beautiful,  rich,  young  Calif ornian 
widow)  came  into  my  father's  house  in  New 
York,  she  does  know  how  to  manage  me  better 
than  anyone  else,  when  I  am  in  such  moods.  I 
could  have  screamed  for  her,  as  I  sat  there  help- 
lessly looking  through  the  open  doors :  and  then, 
at  last,  I  saw  her,  as  if  my  wish  had  been  a  call 
which  had  reached  her  ears  over  the  music  in  the 
ballroom. 

She  had  stopped  dancing,  and  with  her  part- 
ner (Lord  Robert,  again)  entered  the  room 


16    THE   POWERS   AKD  MAXINE 

which  lay  between  our  "  den  "  and  the  ballroom. 
Probably  they  would  have  gone  on  to  the  con- 
servatory, which  can  be  reached  in  that  way,  but 
I  cried  her  name  as  loudly  as  I  could,  and 
she  heard.  Only  a  moment  she  paused — long 
enough  to  send  Lord  Robert  away — and  then  she 
came  straight  to  me.  He  must  have  been  furi- 
ous: but  I  didn't  care  for  that. 

I  had  been  wanting  her  badly,  but  when  I 
saw  her,  so  bright  and  beautiful,  looking  as  if 
she  were  the  joy  of  life  made  incarnate,  I  should 
have  liked  to  strike  her  hard,  first  on  one  cheek 
and  then  the  other,  deepening  the  rose  to  crim- 
son, and  leaving  an  ugly  red  mark  for  each 
finger. 

"  Have  you  a  headache,  dear? "  she  asked,  in 
that  velvet  voice  she  keeps  for  me — as  if  I  were 
a  thing  only  fit  for  pity  and  protection. 

"It's  my  heart,"  said  I.  "It  feels  like  a 
clock  running  down.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  die, 
and  end  it  all !  What's  the  good  of  me — to  my- 
self or  anyone?  " 

"  Don't  talk  like  that,  my  poor  one,"  she  said. 
"  Shall  I  take  you  upstairs  to  your  own  room? " 

"  No,  I  think  I  should  faint  if  I  had  to  go 
upstairs,"  I  answered.  "  Yet  I  can't  stay  here. 
What  shall  I  do?" 

"  What  about  Uncle  Eric's  study?  "  Di  asked. 
She  always  calls  Lord  Mountstuart  '  Uncle 
Eric,'  though  he  isn't  her  uncle.  Her  mother 
and  his  wife  were  sisters,  that's  all:  and  then 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  17 

there  was  the  other  sister  who  married  the  British 
Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  a  cousin  of  Lord 
Mountstuart's.  That  family  seemed  to  have  a 
craze  for  American  girls ;  but  Lord  Mountstuart 
makes  an  exception  of  me.  He's  civil,  of  course, 
because  he's  an  abject  slave  of  Di's,  and  she  re- 
fused to  come  and  pay  a  visit  in  England  with- 
out me:  but  I  give  him  the  shivers,  I  know  very 
well:  and  I  take  an  impish  joy  in  making  him 
jump. 

"  I'm  sure  he  won't  be  there  this  evening,"  Di 
went  on,  when  I  hesitated.  "  He's  playing 
bridge  with  a  lot  of  dear  old  boys  in  the  library, 
or  was,  half  an  hour  ago.  Come,  let  me  help 
jrou  there.  It's  only  a  step." 

She  put  her  pretty  arm  round  my  waist,  and 
leaning  on  her  I  walked  across  the  room,  out  into 
a  corridor,  through  a  tiny  "  bookroom "  where 
odd  volumes  and  old  magazines  are  kept,  into 
Lord  Mountstuart's  study. 

It  is  a  nice  room,  which  he  uses  much  as  his 
wife  uses  her  boudoir.  The  library  next  door  is 
rather  a  show  place,  but  the  study  has  only  Lord 
Mountstuart's  favourite  books  in  it.  He  writes 
there  (he  has  written  a  novel  or  two,  and  thinks 
himself  literary),  and  some  pictures  he  has 
painted  in  different  parts  of  the  world  hang 
on  the  walls:  for  he  also  fancies  himself  ar- 
tistic. 

In  one  corner  is  a  particularly  comfortable, 
cushiony  lounge  where,  I  suppose,  the  distin- 


18    THE   POWERS   AXD  MAXIXE 

guished  author  lies  and  thinks  out  his  subjects, 
or  dreams  them  out.  And  it  was  to  this  that  Di 
led  me. 

She  settled  me  among  some  fat  pillows  of  old 
purple  and  gold  brocade,  and  asked  if  she  should 
ring  and  get  a  little  brandy. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  shall  feel  better  in  a  few 
minutes.  It's  so  nice  and  cool  here." 

'You  look  better  already!"  exclaimed  Di. 
"  Soon,  when  you've  lain  and  rested  awhile, 
you'll  be  a  different  girl." 

"  Ah,  how  I  wish  I  could  be  a  different  girl !  " 
I  sighed.  "  A  strong,  well  girl,  and  tall  and 
beautiful,  and  admired  by  everyone, — like  you — 
or  Maxine  de  Renzie." 

"  What  makes  you  think  of  her?"  asked  Di, 
quickly. 

"  Ivor  was  just  talking  to  me  of  her.  You 
know  he  calls  me  his  '  pal,'  and  tells  me  things 
he  doesn't  tell  everybody.  He  thinks  a  great 
deal  about  Maxine,  still." 

"  She'd  be  a  difficult  woman  to  forget,  if  she's 
as  attractive  off  the  stage  as  she  is  on." 

"  What  a  pity  we  didn't  come  in  time  to  meet 
here  when  she  was  playing  in  London  with 
George  Allendale.  Everybody  used  to  invite 
her  to  their  houses,  it  seems.  Ivor  was  telling  me 
that  he  first  met  her  here,  and  that  it's  such  a 
pleasant  memory,  whenever  he  comes  to  this 
house.  I  suppose  that's  one  reason  he  likes  t» 
come  so  much." 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  19 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Di  sharply. 

"  He  got  so  fascinated  talking  of  her,"  I  went 
•n.  "  He  almost  forgot  that  he  had  a  dance 
with  Mrs.  Allendale.  Of  course  Maxine  had 
made  a  great  hit,  and  all  that;  but  she  didn't 
stand  quite  as  high  as  she  does  now,  since  she's 
become  the  fashion  in  Paris.  Perhaps  she  had 
nothing  except  her  salary,  then,  whereas  she  must 
have  saved  up  a  lot  of  money  by  this  time.  I 
have  an  idea  that  Ivor  would  have  proposed  to 
her  when  she  was  in  London  if  he'd  thought  her 
success  established." 

"Nonsense!"  Di  broke  out,  her  cheeks  very 
pink.     "  As  if  Ivor  were  the  kind  of  man  to% 
think  of  such  a  thing ! " 

"  He  isn't  very  rich,  and  he  is  very  ambitious. 
It  would  be  bad  for  him  to  marry  a  poor  girl,  or 
a  girl  who  wasn't  well  connected  socially.  He 
has  to  think  of  such  things." 

I  watched  the  effect  of  these  words,  with  my 
eyes  half  shut;  for  of  course  Di  has  all  her 
mother's  money,  two  hundred  thousand  English 
pounds;  and  through  the  Mountstuarts,  and  her 
aunt  who  is  married  to  the  Foreign  Secretary,  she 
has  got  to  know  all  the  best  people  in  England. 
Besides,  the  King  and  Queen  have  been  particu- 
larly nice  to  her  since  she  was  presented,  so  she 
has  the  run  of  their  special  set,  as  well  as  the 
political  and  artistic,  and  "  old-fashioned  exclus- 
ive "  ones. 

"  Ivor  Dundas  is  a  law  unto  himself,"  she  said, 


20    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  and  he  has  plenty  of  good  connections  of  his 
own.  He'll  have  a  little  money,  too,  some  day, 
from  an  aunt  or  a  god-mother,  I  believe.  Any- 
way, he  and  Miss  de  Renzie  had  nothing  more 
than  a  flirtation.  Aunt  Lilian  told  me  so.  She 
said  Maxine  was  rather  proud  to  have  Ivor 
dangling  about,  because  everyone  likes  him,  and 
because  his  travels  and  his  book  were  being  a  lot 
talked  about  just  then.  Naturally,  he  admired 
her,  because  she's  beautiful,  and  a  very  great 
actress " 

"  Oh,  your  Aunt  Lilian  would  make  little  of 
the  affair,"  I  laughed.  "  She  flirts  with  him 
herself." 

"Why,  Lisa,  Aunt  Lilian's  over  forty,  and 
he's  twenty-nine! " 

"  Forty  isn't  the  end  of  the  world  for  a  woman, 
nowadays.  She's  a  beauty  and  a  great  lady. 
Ivor  always  wants  the  best  of  everything.  She 
flirts  with  him,  and  he  with  her." 

Di  laughed  too,  but  only  to  make  it  seem  as  if 
she  didn't  care.  "  You'd  better  not  say  such 
silly  things  to  Uncle  Eric,"  she  said,  staring  at 
the  pattern  of  the  cornice.  "  Aren't  those 
funny,  gargoyley  faces  up  there?  I  never 
noticed  them  before.  But  oh — about  Mr.  Dun- 
das  and  Maxine  de  Renzie — I  don't  think,  really, 
that  he  troubles  himself  much  about  her  any 
more,  for  the  other  day  I — I  happened  to  ask 
what  she  was  playing  in  Paris  now,  and  he  didn't 
know.  He  said  he  hadn't  been  over  to  see  her 


KNIGHT  AND  SISTER  21 

act,  as  it  was  too  far  away,  and  he  was  afraid 
when  he  wasn't  too  busy,  he  was  too  lazy." 

"  He  said  so  to  you,  of  course.  But  when  he 
spends  Saturday  to  Monday  at  Folkestone  with 
the  godmother  who's  going  to  leave  him  her 
money,  how  easy  to  slip  over  the  Channel  to  the 
fair  Maxine,  without  anyone  being  the  wiser." 

;<  Why  shouldn't  he  slip,  or  slide,  or  steam,  or 
sail  in  a  balloon,  if  he  likes? "  laughed  Di,  but 
not  happily.  "  You're  looking  much  better, 
Lisa.  You've  quite  a  colour  now.  Do  you  feel 
strong  enough  to  go  upstairs?" 

"  I  would  rather  rest  here  for  awhile,  since  you 
think  Lord  Mount stuart  is  sure  not  to  come," 
said  I.  '  These  pillows  are  so  comfortable. 
Then  perhaps,  by  and  by,  I  shall  feel  able  to 
go  back  to  the  den,  and  watch  the  dancing.  I 
should  like  to  keep  up,  if  I  can,  for  I  know  I 
shan't  sleep,  and  the  night  will  seem  so  long." 

'  Very  well,"  said  Di,  speaking  kindly,  though 
I  knew  she  would  have  liked  to  shake  me.  "  I'm 
afraid  I  shall  have  to  run  away  now,  for  my  part- 
ner will  think  me  so  rude.  What  about  sup- 
per?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  any.  And  I  shall  have 
gone  upstairs  before  that,"  I  interrupted.  "  Go 
now,  I  don't  need  you  any  more." 

"  Ring,  and  send  for  me  if  you  feel  badly 
again." 

"  Yes— yes." 

By  this  time  she  was  at  the  door,  and  there 


22    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

she  turned  with  a  remorseful  look  in  her  eyes, 
as  if  she  had  been  unkind  and  was  sorry.  "  Even 
if  you  don't  send,  I  shall  come  back  by  and  by, 
when  I  can,  to  see  how  you  are,"  she  said.  Then 
she  was  gone,  and  I  nestled  deeper  into  the  sofa 
cushions,  with  the  feeling  that  my  head  was  so 
heavy,  it  must  weigh  down  the  pillows  like  a 
stone. 

"  She  was  afraid  of  missing  Number  13  with 
Ivor,"  I  said  to  myself.  "  Well — she's  welcome 
to  it  now.  I  don't  think  she'll  enjoy  it  much — 
or  let  him.  Oh,  I  hope  they'll  quarrel.  I  don't 
think  I'd  mind  anything,  if  only  I  was  sure 
they'd  never  be  nearer  to  each  other.  I  wish  Di 
would  marry  Lord  Robert.  Perhaps  then  Ivor 
would  turn  to  me.  Oh,  my  God,  how  I  hate  her 
— and  all  beautiful  girls,  who  spoil  the  lives  of 
women  like  me." 

A  shivering  fit  shook  me  from  head  to  feet,  as 
I  guessed  that  the  time  must  be  coming  for 
Number  13.  They  were  together,  perhaps. 
What  if,  in  spite  of  all,  Ivor  should  tell  Di  how 
he  loved  her,  and  they  should  be  engaged?  At 
that  thought,  I  tried  to  bring  on  a  heart  attack, 
and  die ;  for  at  least  it  would  chill  their  happiness 
if,  when  Lady  Mountstuart's  ball  was  over,  I 
should  be  found  lying  white  and  dead,  like  Elaine 
on  her  barge.  I  was  holding  my  breath,  with  my 
hand  pressed  over  my  heart  to  feel  how  it  was 
beating,  when  the  door  opened  suddenly,  and  I 
heard  a  voice  speaking. 


CHAPTER   II 

LISA  LISTENS 

turned  up  the  light.  "  I'll  leave  you 
together,"  said  Lord  Mountstuart;  and  the  door 
was  closed. 

'What  could  that  mean?"  I  wondered.  I 
had  supposed  the  two  men  had  come  in  alone, 
but  there  must  have  been  a  third  person.  Who 
could  it  be?  Had  Lord  Mountstuart  been 
arranging  a  tete-a-tete  between  Di  and  Ivor 
Dundas? 

The  thought  was  like  a  hand  on  my  throat, 
choking  my  life  out.  I  must  hear  what  they  had 
to  say  to  each  other. 

Without  stopping  to  think  more,  I  rolled  over 
and  let  myself  sink  down  into  the  narrow  space 
between  the  low  couch  and  the  wall,  sharply  pull- 
ing the  clinging  folds  of  my  chiffon  dress  after 
me.  Then  I  lay  still,  my  blood  pounding  in  my 
temples  and  ears,  and  in  my  nostrils  a  faint, 
musty  smell  from  the  Oriental  stuff  that  covered 
the  lounge. 

I  could  see  nothing  from  where  I  lay,  except 
the  side  of  the  couch,  the  wall,  and  a  bit  of  the 
ceiling  with  the  gargoyley  comic  which  Di  had 

23 


24    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

mentioned  when  she  wanted  to  seem  indifferent 
to  the  subject  of  our  conversation.  But  I  was 
listening  with  all  my  might  for  what  was  to 
come. 

"  Better  lock  the  door,  if  you  please,  Dundas," 
said  a  voice,  which  gave  me  a  shock  of  surprise, 
though  I  knew  it  well. 

Instead  of  Di,  it  was  the  Foreign  Secretary 
who  spoke. 

"  We  won't  run  the  risk  of  interruptions,"  he 
went  on,  with  that  slow,  clear  enunciation  of  his 
which  most  Oxford  men  have,  and  keep  all  their 
lives,  especially  men  of  the  college  that  was  his 
— Balliol.  "  I  told  Mountstuart  that  I  wanted 
a  private  chat  with  you.  Beyond  that,  he  knows 
nothing,  nor  does  anyone  else  except  myself. 
You  understand  that  this  conversation  of  ours, 
whether  anything  comes  of  it  or  not,  is  entirely 
confidential.  I  have  a  proposal  to  make.  You'll 
agree  to  it  or  not,  as  you  choose.  But  if  you 
don't  agree,  forget  it,  with  everything  I  may 
have  said." 

"  My  services  and  my  memory  are  both  at  your 
disposal,"  answered  Ivor,  in  such  a  gay,  happy 
voice  that  something  told  me  he  had  already 
talked  with  Diana — and  that  in  spite  of  me  she 
had  not  snubbed  him.  "  I  am  honoured — I 
won't  say  flattered,  for  I'm  too  much  in  earnest 
— that  you  should  place  any  confidence  in  me.'* 

I  lay  there  behind  the  lounge  and  sneered  at 
this  speech  of  his.  Of  course,  I  said  to  myself, 


LISA   LISTENS  25 

lie  would  be  ready  to  do  anything  to  please  the 
Foreign  Secretary,  since  all  the  big  plums 
his  ambition  craved  were  in  the  gift  of  that 
man. 

"  Frankly,  I'm  in  a  difficulty,  and  it  has 
occurred  to  me  that  you  can  help  me  out  of  it 
better  than  anyone  else  I  know,"  said  the  smooth, 
trained  voice.  "  It  is  a  little  diplomatic  errand 
you  will  have  to  undertake  for  me  to-morrow,  if 
you  want  to  do  me  a  good  turn." 

"  I  will  undertake  it  with  great  pleasure,  and 
carry  it  through  to  the  best  of  my  ability," 
replied  Ivor. 

"I'm  sure  you  can  carry  it  through  excel- 
lently," said  the  Foreign  Secretary,  still  fencing. 
"  It  will  be  good  practice,  if  you  succeed,  for — 
any  future  duties  in  the  career  which  may  be 
opening  to  you." 

"  He's  bribing  him  with  that  consulship,"  I 
thought,  beginning  to  be  very  curious  indeed  as 
to  what  I  might  be  going  to  hear.  My  heart 
wasn't  beating  so  thickly  now.  I  could  think 
almost  calmly  again. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  trust  in  me,"  said 
Ivor. 

"  A  little  diplomatic  errand,"  repeated  the 
Foreign  Secretary.  "  In  itself  the  thing  is  not 
much:  that  is,  on  the  face  of  it.  And  yet,  in 
its  relation  with  other  interests,  it  becomes  a 
mission  of  vast  importance,  incalculable  impor- 
tance. When  I  have  explained,  you  will  see  why 


26    THE    POWERS   A1STD   MAXINE 

I  apply  to  you.  Indeed,  I  came  to  my  cousin 
Mountstuart's  house  expressly  because  I  was 
told  you  would  be  at  his  wife's  ball.  My  regret 
is,  that  the  news  which  brought  me  in  search  of 
you  didn't  reach  me  earlier,  for  if  it  had  I 
should  have  come  with  my  wife,  and  have  got 
at  you  in  time  to  send  you  off — if  you  agreed  to 
go — to-night.  As  it  is,  the  matter  will  have  to 
rest  till  to-morrow  morning.  It's  too  late  for 
you  to  catch  the  midnight  boat  across  the 
Channel." 

"Across  the  Channel?"  echoed  Ivor.  "You 
want  me  to  go  to  France? " 

"  Yes." 

"  One  could  always  get  across  somehow,"  said 
Ivor,  thoughtfully,  "  if  there  were  a  great 
hurry." 

'  There  is — the  greatest.  But  in  this  case, 
the  more  haste,  the  less  speed.  That  is,  if  you 
were  to  rush  off,  order  a  special  train,  and  char- 
ter a  tug  or  motor  boat  at  Dover,  as  I  suppose 
you  mean,  my  object  would  probably  be 
defeated.  I  came  to  you  because  those  who  are 
watching  this  business  wouldn't  be  likely  to 
guess  I  had  given  you  a  hand  in  it.  All  that 
you  do,  however,  must  be  done  quietly,  with  no 
fuss,  no  sign  of  anything  unusual  going  on.  It 
was  natural  I  should  come  to  a  ball  given  by  my 
wife's  sister,  whose  husband  is  my  cousin.  No 
one  knows  of  this  interview  of  ours:  I  believe  I 
may  make  my  mind  easy  on  that  score,  at  least. 


LISA   LISTENS  27 

And  it  is  equally  natural  that  you  should  start 
on  business  or  pleasure  of  your  own,  for  Paris 
to-morrow  morning;  also  that  you  should  meet 
Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  there." 

"Mademoiselle  de  Renzie!"  exclaimed  Ivor, 
off  his  guard  for  an  instant,  and  showing  plainly 
that  he  was  taken  aback. 

"Isn't  she  a  friend  of  yours?"  asked  the 
Foreign  Secretary  rather  sharply.  Though  I 
couldn't  see  him,  I  knew  exactly  how  he  would 
be  looking  at  Ivor,  his  keen  grey  eyes  narrowed, 
his  clean-shaven  lips  drawn  in,  the  long,  well- 
shaped  hand,  of  which  he  is  said  to  be  vain,  toy- 
ing with  the  pale  Malmaison  pink  he  always 
wears  in  his  buttonhole. 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  Ivor  answered. 
"  But- 

"A  'but'  already!  Perhaps  I'd  better  tell 
you  that  the  mission  has  to  do  with  Mademoiselle 
de  Renzie,  and,  directly,  with  no  one  else.  She 
has  acted  as  my  agent  in  Paris." 

"  Indeed!  I  didn't  dream  that  she  dabbled  in 
politics." 

"  And  you  should  not  dream  it  from  any 
word  of  mine,  Mr.  Dundas,  if  it  weren't  neces- 
sary to  be  entirely  open  with  you,  if  you  are  to 
help  me  in  this  matter.  But  before  we  go  any 
further,  I  must  know  whether  Mademoiselle  de 
Renzie's  connection  with  this  business  will  for 
any  reason  keep  you  out  of  it." 

"  Not  if — you  need  my  help,"  said  Ivor,  with 


28     THE  POWERS  AND  MAXINE 

an  effort.  "  And  I  beg  you  won't  suppose  that 
my  hesitation  has  anything  to  do  with  Miss  de 
Renzie  herself.  I  have  for  her  the  greatest 
respect  and  admiration." 

"  We  all  have,"  returned  the  Foreign  Secre- 
tary, "  especially  those  who  know  her  best. 
Among  her  many  virtues,  she's  one  of  the  few 
women  who  can  keep  a  secret — her  own  and 
others.  She  is  a  magnificent  actress — on  the 
stage  and  off.  And  now  I  have  your  promise 
to  help  me,  I  must  tell  you  it's  to  help 
her  as  well :  therefore  I  owe  you  the  whole  truth, 
or  you  will  be  handicapped.  For  several  years 
Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  has  done  good  service — 
secret  service,  you  must  understand — for  Great 
Britain." 

"By  Jove!  Maxine  a  political  spy!"  Ivor 
broke  out  impulsively. 

'  That's  rather  a  hard  name,  isn't  it?  There 
are  better  ones.  And  she's  no  traitor  to  her 
country,  because,  as  you  perhaps  know,  she's 
Polish  by  birth.  I  can  assure  you  we've  much 
for  which  to  thank  her  cleverness  and  tact — and 
beauty.  For  our  sakes  I'm  sorry  that  she's 
serving  our  interests  professionally  for  the  last 
time.  For  her  own  sake,  I  ought  to  rejoice,  as 
she's  engaged  to  be  married.  And  if  you  can 
save  her  from  coming  to  grief  over  this  very 
ticklish  business,  she'll  probably  live  happily 
ever  after.  Did  you  know  of  her  engage- 
ment? " 


LISA   LISTENS  29 

"  No,"  replied  Ivor.  "  I  saw  Miss  de  Renzie 
often  when  she  was  acting  in  London  a  year 
ago;  but  after  she  went  to  Paris — of  course, 
she's  very  busy  and  has  crowds  of  friends;  and 
I've  only  crossed  once  or  twice  since,  on  hurried 
visits;  so  we  haven't  met,  or  written  to  each 
other." 

("Very  good  reason,"  I  thought  bitterly, 
behind  my  sofa.  '  You've  been  busy,  too — fall- 
ing in  love  with  Diana  Forrest.") 

"  It  hasn't  been  announced  yet,  but  I  thought 
as  an  old  friend  you  might  have  been  told.  I 
believe  Mademoiselle  wants  to  surprise  every- 
body when  the  right  time  comes — if  the  poor 
girl  isn't  ruined  irretrievably  in  this  affair  of 
ours." 

"  Is  there  really  serious  danger  of  that?" 

"  The  most  serious.  If  you  can't  save  her, 
not  only  will  the  Entente  Cordiale  be  shaken  to 
its  foundations  (and  I  say  nothing  of  my  own 
reputation,  which  is  at  stake) ,  but  her  future 
happiness  will  be  broken  in  the  crash,  and — she 
says — she  wTill  not  live  to  suffer  the  agony  of  her 
loss.  She  will  kill  herself  if  disaster  comes ;  and 
though  suicide  is  usually  the  last  resource  of  a 
coward,  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  is  no  coward, 
and  I'm  inclined  to  think  I  should  come  to  the 
same  resolve  in  her  place." 

'  Tell  me  what  I  am  to  do,"  said  Ivor,  evi- 
dently moved  by  the  Foreign  Secretary's  strange 
words,  and  his  intense  earnestness. 


30     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

'  You  will  go  to  Paris  by  the  first  train 
to-morrow  morning,  without  mentioning  your 
intention  to  anyone;  you  will  drive  at  once  to 
some  hotel  where  you  have  never  stayed  and  are 
not  known.  I  will  find  means  of  informing  the 
lady  what  hotel  you  choose.  You  will  there 
give  a  fictitious  name  (let  us  say,  George  Sand- 
ford)  and  you  will  take  a  suite,  with  a  private 
sitting-room.  That  done,  you  will  say  that  you 
are  expecting  a  lady  to  call  upon  you,  and  will 
see  no  one  else.  You  will  wait  till  Mademoiselle 
de  Renzie  appears,  which  will  certainly  be  as 
soon  as  she  can  possiby  manage;  and  when  you 
and  she  are  alone  together,  sure  that  you're  not 
being  spied  upon,  you  will  put  into  her  hands  a 
small  packet  which  I  shall  give  you  before  we 
part  to-night." 

"  It  sounds  simple  enough,"  said  Ivor,  "  if 
that's  all." 

"  It  is  all.  Yet  it  may  be  anything  but 
simple." 

'  Would  you  prefer  to  have  me  call  at  her 
house,  and  save  her  coming  to  a  hotel?  I'd 
willingly  do  so  if " 

"  No.  As  I  told  you,  should  it  be  known  that 
you  and  she  meet,  those  who  are  watching  her 
at  present  ought  not  to  suspect  the  real  motive 
of  the  meeting.  So  much  the  better  for  us: 
but  we  must  think  of  her.  After  four  o'clock 
every  afternoon,  the  young  Frenchman  she's 
engaged  to  is  in  the  habit  of  going  to  her  house, 


LISA   LISTENS  31 

and  stopping  until  it's  time  for  her  to  go  to 
work.  He  dines  with  her,  but  doesn't  drive  with 
her  to  the  theatre,  as  that  would  be  rather  too 
public  for  the  present,  until  their  engagement's 
announced.  He  adores  her,  but  is  incon- 
veniently jealous,  like  most  Latins.  It's  practi- 
cally certain  that  he's  heard  your  name 
mentioned  in  connection  with  hers,  when  she  was 
in  London,  and  as  a  Frenchman  invariably  fails 
to  understand  that  a  man  can  admire  a  beautiful 
woman  without  being  in  love  with  her,  your  call 
at  her  house  might  give  Mademoiselle  Maxine  a 
mauvais  quart  d'heure" 

"  I  see.  But  if  she  sends  him  away,  and 
comes  to  my  hotel " 

"  She'll  probably  make  some  excuse  about 
being  obliged  to  go  to  the  theatre  early,  and 
thus  get  rid  of  him.  She's  quite  clever  enough 
to  manage  that.  Then,  as  your  own  name  won't 
appear  on  any  hotel  list  in  the  papers  next  day, 
the  most  jealous  heart  need  have  no  cause  for 
suspicion.  At  the  same  time,  if  certain  persons 
whom  Mademoiselle — and  we,  too — have  to  fear, 
do  find  out  that  she  has  visited  Ivor  Dundas, 
who  has  assumed  a  false  name  for  the  pleasure 
of  a  private  interview  with  her,  interests  of  even 
deeper  importance  than  the  most  desperate  love 
affair  may  still,  we'll  hope,  be  guarded  by  the 
pretext  of  your  old  friendship.  Now,  you 
understand  thoroughly? " 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Ivor,  very  grave  and 


troubled,  I  knew  by  the  change  in  his  manner, 
out  of  which  all  the  gaiety  had  been  slowly 
drained.  "  I  will  do  my  very  best." 

"  If  you  are  sacrificing  any  important  en- 
gagements of  your  own  for  the  next  two  days, 
you  won't  suffer  for  it  in  the  end,"  remarked  the 
Foreign  Secretary  meaningly. 

No  doubt  Ivor  saw  the  consulship  at  Algiers 
dancing  before  his  eyes,  bound  up  with  an 
engagement  to  Di,  just  as  a  slice  of  rich  plum 
cake  and  white  bride  cake  are  tied  together  with 
bows  of  satin  ribbons  sometimes,  in  America.  I 
didn't  want  him  to  have  the  consulship,  because 
getting  that  would  perhaps  mean  getting  Di, 
too. 

;<  Thank  you,"  said  Ivor. 

"And  what  hotel  shall  you  choose  in  Paris? " 
asked  the  Foreign  Secretary.  "  It  should  be  a 
good  one,  I  don't  need  to  remind  you,  where 
Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  could  go  without 
danger  of  compromising  herself,  in  case  she 
should  be  recognised  in  spite  of  the  veil  she's 
pretty  certain  to  wear.  Yet  it  shouldn't  be  in 
too  central  a  situation." 

"  Shall  it  be  the  £lysee  Palace? "  asked  Ivor. 

E<  That  will  do  very  well,"  replied  the  other, 
after  reflecting  for  an  instant.  And  I  could 
have  clapped  my  hands,  in  what  Ivor  would  call 
my  "impish  joy,"  when  it  was  settled;  for  the 
;Mysee  Palace  is  where  Lord  and  Lady  Mount- 
stuart  stop  when  they  visit  Paris,  and  they'd 


LISA   LISTENS  33 

been  talking  of  running  over  next  day  with 
Lord  Robert  West,  to  look  at  a  wonderful  new 
motor  car  for  sale  there — one  that  a  Rajah  had 
ordered  to  be  made  for  him,  but  died  before  it 
was  finished.  Lady  Mountstuart  always  has  one 
new  fad  every  six  months  at  least,  and  her  latest 
is  to  drive  a  motor  car  herself.  Lord  Robert  is 
a  great  expert — can  make  a  motor,  I  believe,  or 
take  it  to  pieces  and  put  it  together  again;  and 
he'd  been  insisting  for  days  that  she  would  be 
able  to  drive  this  Rajah  car.  She'd  promised, 
that  if  not  too  tired  she'd  cross  to  Paris  the  day 
after  the  ball,  taking  the  afternoon  train,  via 
Boulogne,  as  she  wouldn't  be  equal  to  an  early 
start.  Now,  I  thought,  how  splendid  it  would 
be  if  she  should  see  Maxine  at  the  hotel  with 
Ivor! 

The  Foreign  Secretary  was  advising  Ivor  to 
wire  the  filysee  Palace  for  rooms  without  any 
delay,  as  there  must  be  no  hitch  about  his  meet- 
ing Maxine,  once  it  was  arranged  for  her  to  go 
there.  "  Any  misunderstanding  would  be  fatal," 
he  went  on,  as  solemnly  as  if  the  safety  of 
Maxine's  head  depended  upon  Ivor's  trip.  "  I 
only  wish  I  could  have  got  you  oif  to-night ;  and 
in  that  case  you  might  have  gone  to  her  own 
house,  early  in  the  morning.  She  is  in  a  fright- 
ful state  of  mind,  poor  girl.  But  it  was  only 
to-day  that  the  contents  of  the  packet  reached 
me,  and  was  shown  to  the  Prime  Minister. 
Then,  it  was  just  before  I  hurried  round  here 


84    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

to  see  you  that  I  received  a  cypher  telegram 
from  her,  warning  me  that  Count  Godensky — 
of  whom  you've  probably  heard — an  attache  of 
the  Russian  embassy  in  Paris,  somehow  has  come 
to  suspect  a — er — a  game  in  high  politics  which 
she  and  I  have  been  playing;  her  last,  according 
to  present  intentions,  as  I  told  you.  I  have  an 
idea  that  this  man,  who's  well  known  in  Paris 
society,  proposed  to  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie, 
refused  to  take  no  for  an  answer,  and  bored  her 
until  she  perhaps  was  goaded  into  giving  him  a 
severe  snub.  Godensky  is  a  vain  man,  and 
wouldn't  forgive  a  snub,  especially  if  it  had  got 
talked  about.  He'd  be  a  bad  enemy:  and 
Mademoiselle  seems  to  think  that  he  is  a  very 
bitter  and  determined  enemy.  Apparently  she 
doesn't  know  how  much  he  has  found  out,  or 
whether  he  has  actually  found  out  anything  at 
all,  or  merely  guesses,  and  '  bluffs.'  But  one 
thing  is  unfortunately  certain,  I  believe.  Every 
boat  and  every  train  between  London  and  Paris 
will  be  watched  more  closely  than  usual  for  the 
next  day  or  two.  Any  known  or  suspected 
agent  wouldn't  get  through  unchallenged.  But 
I  can  see  no  reason  why  you  should  not." 

"  Nor  I,"  answered  Ivor,  laughing  a  little. 
"  I  think  I  could  make  some  trouble  for  anyone 
who  tried  to  stop  me." 

"Caution  above  all!  Remember  you're  in 
training  for  a  diplomatic  career,  what?  If  you 
should  lose  the  packet  I'm  going  to  give  you,  I 


LISA   LISTENS  35 

prophesy  that  in  twenty-four  hours  the  world 
would  be  empty  of  Maxine  de  Renzie:  for  the 
circumstances  surrounding  her  in  this  transaction 
are  peculiar,  the  most  peculiar  I've  ever  been 
entangled  in,  perhaps,  in  rather  a  varied  experi- 
ence ;  and  they  intimately  concern  her  fiance,  the 
Vicomte  Raoul  du  Laurier " 

"Raoul  du  Laurier!"  exclaimed  Ivor.  "So 
she's  engaged  to  marry  him!  " 

"  Yes.     Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  have  friends  who  do.  He's  in  the  French 
Foreign  Office,  though  they  say  he's  more  at 
home  in  the  hunting  field,  or  writing  plays " 

"  Which  don't  get  produced.  Quite  so.  But 
they  will  get  produced  some  day,  for  I  believe 
he's  an  extremely  clever  fellow  in  his  way — in 
everything  except  the  diplomatic  *  trade '  which 
his  father  would  have  him  take  up,  and  got  him 
into,  through  Heaven  knows  what  influence.  No ; 
Du  Laurier's  no  fool,  and  is  said  to  be  a  fine 
sportsman,  as  well  as  almost  absurdly  good-look- 
ing. Mademoiselle  Maxine  has  plenty  of  excuse 
for  her  infatuation — for  I  assure  you  it's  noth- 
ing less.  She'd  jump  into  the  fire  for  this  young 
man,  and  grill  with  a  Joan  of  Arc  smile  on  her 
face." 

This  would  have  been  pleasant  hearing  for 
Ivor,  if  he'd  ever  been  really  in  love  with  Max- 
ine; but  I  was  obliged  to  admit  to  myself  that 
he  hadn't,  for  he  didn't  seem  to  care  in  the  least. 
On  the  contrary,  he  grew  a  little  more  cheerful. 


36    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  I  can  see  that  du  Laurier's  being  in  the 
French  Foreign  Office  might  make  it  rather 
awkward  for  Miss  de  Renzie  if  she — if  she's 
been  rather  too  helpful  to  us,"  he  said. 

"  Exactly.  And  thereby  hangs  a  tale — a 
sensational  and  even  romantic  tale  almost  com- 
plicated enough  for  the  plot  of  a  novel.  When 
you  meet  Mademoiselle  to-morrow  afternoon  or 
evening,  if  she  cares  to  take  you  into  her  confi- 
dence, in  reward  for  your  services,  in  regard  to 
some  private  interests  of  her  own  which  have 
got  themselves  wildly  mixed  up  with  the  gravest 
political  matters,  she's  at  liberty  to  do  so  as  far 
as  I'm  concerned,  for  you  are  to  be  trusted,  and 
deserve  to  be  trusted.  You  may  say  that  to  her 
from  me,  if  the  occasion  arises.  I  hope  with  all 
my  heart  that  everything  may  go  smoothly.  If 
not — the  Entente  Cordiale  may  burst  like  a 
bomb.  I — who  have  made  myself  responsible 
in  the  matter,  with  the  clear  understanding  that 
England  will  deny  me  if  the  scheme's  a  failure 
— shall  be  shattered  by  a  flying  fragment.  The 
favourite  actress  of  Paris  will  be  asphyxiated  by 
the  poisonous  fumes ;  and  you,  though  I  hope  no 
worse  harm  may  come  to  you,  will  mourn  for  the 
misfortunes  of  others.  Your  responsibility  will 
be  such  that  it  will  be  almost  as  if  you  carried 
the  destructive  bomb  itself,  until  you  get  the 
packet  into  the  hands  of  Maxine  de  Renzie." 

"  Good  heavens,  I  shall  be  glad  when  she  has 
it!"  said  Ivor. 


LISA   LISTENS  37 

'  You  can't  be  gladder  than  she — or  I.  And 
here  it  is,"  replied  the  Foreign  Secretary.  "  I 
consider  it  great  luck  to  have  found  such  a  mes- 
senger, at  a  house  I  could  enter  without  being 
suspected  of  any  motive  more  subtle  than  a  wish 
to  eat  a  good  supper,  or  to  meet  some  of  the 
prettiest  women  in  London." 

I  would  have  given  a  great  deal  to  see  what 
he  was  giving  Ivor  to  take  to  Maxine,  and  I  was 
half  tempted  to  lift  myself  up  and  peep  at  the 
two  from  behind  the  lounge,  but  I  could  tell 
from  their  voices  that  they  were  standing  quite 
near,  and  it  would  have  been  too  dangerous. 
The  Foreign  Secretary,  who  is  rather  a  nervous 
man,  and  fastidious  about  a  woman's  looks,  never 
could  bear  me:  and  I  believe  he  would  have 
thought  it  almost  as  justifiable  as  drowning  an 
ugly  kitten,  to  choke  me  if  he  knew  I'd  over- 
heard his  secrets. 

However,  Ivor's  next  words  gave  me  some 
inkling  of  what  I  wished  to  know.  "  It's  im- 
portance evidently  doesn't  consist  in  bulk,"  he 
said  lightly.  "  I  can  easily  carry  the  case  in  my 
breast  pocket." 

"  Pray  put  it  there  at  once,  and  guard  it  as 
you  would  guard  the  life  and  honour  of  a 
woman,"  said  the  Foreign  Secretary  solemnly. 
"  Now,  I  must  go  and  look  for  my  wife.  It's 
better  that  you  and  I  shouldn't  be  seen  together. 
One  never  knows  who  may  have  got  in  among 
the  guests  at  a  crush  like  this.  I  will  go  out  at 


38    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

one  door,  and  when  you've  waited  for  a  few 
minutes,  you  can  go  by  way  of  another." 

A  moment  later  there  was  silence  in  the  room, 
and  I  knew  that  Ivor  was  alone.  What  if  I 
spoke,  and  startled  him?  All  that  is  impish  in 
me  longed  to  see  how  his  face  would  look;  but 
there  was  too  much  at  stake.  Not  only  would  I 
hate  to  have  him  scorn  me  for  an  eavesdropper, 
but  I  had  already  built  up  a  great  plan  for  the 
use  I  could  make  of  what  I  had  overheard. 


CHAPTER  III 

LISA   MAKES   MISCHIEF 

WHEN  Ivor  was  safely  out  of  the  room,  my 
first  thought  was  to  escape  from  behind  the 
lounge,  and  get  upstairs  to  my  own  quarters. 
But  just  as  I  had  sat  up,  very  cramped  and 
wretched,  with  one  foot  and  one  arm  asleep, 
Lord  Mountstuart  came  in  again,  and  down  I 
had  to  duck. 

He  had  brought  a  friend,  who  was  as  mad 
about  old  books  and  first  editions,  as  he ;  a  stuffy, 
elderly  thing,  who  had  never  seen  Lord  Mount- 
stuart's  treasures  before.  As  both  were  per- 
fectly daft  on  the  subject,  they  must  have  kept 
me  lying  there  an  hour,  while  they  fussed  about 
from  one  glass-protected  book-case  to  another, 
murmuring  admiration  of  Caxtons,  or  discuss- 
ing the  value  of  a  Mazarin  Bible,  with  their 
noses  in  a  lot  of  old  volumes  which  ought  to  have 
been  eaten  up  by  moths  long  ago.  As  for  me,  I 
should  have  been  delighted  to  set  fire  to  the 
whole  lot. 

At  last  Lord  Mountstuart  (whom  I've  nick- 
named "  Stewey  ")  remembered  that  there  was  a 
ball  going  on,  and  that  he  was  the  host.  So  he 

39 


40    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

and  the  other  duffer  pottered  away,  leaving  the 
coast  clear  and  the  door  wide  open.  It  was 
just  my  luck  (which  is  always  bad  and  always 
has  been)  that  a  pair  of  flirting  idiots,  for  whom 
the  conservatory,  or  our  "  den,"  or  the  stairs, 
wasn't  secluded  enough,  must  needs  be  prying 
about  and  spy  that  open  door  before  I  had  con- 
quered my  cramps  and  got  up  from  behind  the 
sofa. 

The  dim  light  commended  itself  to  their  silli- 
ness, and  after  hesitating  a  minute,  the  girl — 
whoever  she  was — allowed  herself  to  be  drawn 
into  a  room  where  she  had  no  business  to  be. 
Then,  to  make  bad  worse,  they  selected  the 
lounge  to  sit  upon,  and  I  had  to  lie  closely 
wedged  against  the  wall,  with  "  pins  and 
needles "  pricking  all  over  my  cramped  body, 
while  some  man  I  didn't  know  proposed  and 
was  accepted  by  some  girl  I  shall  probably  never 
see. 

They  continued  to  sit,  making  a  tremen- 
dous fuss  about  each  other,  until  voices  were 
"  heard  off,"  as  they  say  in  the  directions  for 
theatricals,  whereupon  they  sprang  up  and  hur- 
ried out  like  "  guilty  things  upon  a  fearful 
summons." 

By  that  time  I  was  more  dead  than  alive,  but 
I  did  manage  to  crawl  out  of  my  prison,  and 
creep  up  to  my  room  by  a  back  stairway  which 
the  servants  use.  But  it  was  very  late  now,  and 
people  were  going,  even  the  young  ones  who  love 


LISA   MAKES   MISCHIEF          41 

dancing.  As  soon  as  I  was  able,  I  scuttled  out 
of  my  ball  dress  and  into  a  dressing  gown.  Also 
I  undid  my  hair,  which  is  my  one  beauty,  and 
let  it  hang  over  my  shoulders,  streaming  down  in 
front  on  each  side,  so  that  nobody  would  know 
one  shoulder  is  higher  than  the  other.  It  wasn't 
that  I  was  particularly  anxious  to  appear  well 
before  Di  (though  I  have  enough  vanity  not  to 
like  the  contrast  between  us  to  seem  too  great, 
even  when  she  and  I  are  alone),  but  because  I 
wanted  her  to  think,  when  she  came  to  my  room, 
that  I'd  been  there  a  long  time. 

I  was  sure  she  would  come  and  peep  in  at  the 
door,  to  steal  away  if  she  found  me  asleep,  or  to 
enquire  how  I  felt  if  I  were  awake. 

By  and  by  the  handle  of  the  door  moved 
softly,  just  as  I  had  expected,  and  seeing  a  light, 
Di  came  in.  It  was  late,  and  she  had  danced  all 
night,  but  instead  of  looking  tired  she  was  radia- 
ant.  When  she  spoke,  her  voice  was  as  gay  and 
happy  as  Ivor's  had  been  when  he  first  came  into 
Lord  Mountstuart's  study  with  the  Foreign 
Secretary. 

I  said  that  I  was  much  better,  and  had  had  a 
nice  rest;  that  if  I  hadn't  wanted  to  hear  how 
everything  had  gone  at  the  ball,  I  should  have 
been  in  bed  and  asleep  long  ago. 

"  Everything  went  very  well,"  said  she.  "  I 
think  it  was  a  great  success." 

"Did  you  dance  every  dance?"  I  asked, 
working  up  slowly  to  what  I  meant  to  say. 


42    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  Except  a  few  that  I  sat  out." 

"  I  can  guess  who  sat  them  out  with  you,"  said 
I.  "  Ivor  Dundas.  And  one  was  number 
thirteen,  wasn't  it? " 

"  How  did  you  know?  " 

"  He  told  me  he  was  going  to  have  thirteen 
with  you.  Oh,  you  needn't  try  to  hide  anything 
from  me.  He  tells  most  things  to  his  *  Imp.' 
Was  he  nice  when  he  proposed?" 

;<  He  didn't  propose." 

"  I'll  give  you  the  sapphire  bracelet  Lady 
Mountstuart  gave  me,  if  he  didn't  tell  you  he 
loved  you,  and  ask  if  there'd  be  a  chance  for  him 
in  case  he  got  Algiers." 

"  I   wouldn't   take   your   bracelet   even   if— 
if .    But  you're  a  little  witch,  Lisa." 

"Of  course  I  am!"  I  exclaimed,  smiling, 
though  I  had  a  sickening  wrench  of  the  heart. 
"And  I  suppose  you  forgot  all  his  faults  and 
failings,  and  said  he  could  have  you,  Algiers  or 
no  Algiers." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  has  all  those  faults  and 
failings  you  were  talking  about  this  evening," 
said  Di,  with  her  cheeks  very  pink.  "  He  may 
have  flirted  a  little  at  one  time.  Women  have 
spoiled  him  a  lot.  But — but  he  does  love  me, 
Lisa." 

"  And  he  did  love  Maxine!  "  I  laughed. 

"  He  didn't.  He  never  loved  her.  I — you 
see,  you  put  such  horrid  thoughts  into  my  head 
that — that  I  just  mentioned  her  name  when  he 


LISA   MAKES   MISCHIEF          43 

said  to-night — oh,  when  he  said  the  usual  things, 
about  never  having  cared  seriously  for  anyone 
until  he  saw  me.  Only — it  seems  treacherous  to 
call  them  *  usual'  because — when  you  love  a  man 
you  feel  that  the  things  he  says  can  never  have 
been  said  before,  in  the  same  way,  by  any  other 
man  to  any  other  woman." 

"  Only  perhaps  by  the  same  man  to  another 
woman,"  I  mocked  at  her,  trying  to  act  as  if  I 
wrere  teasing  in  fun. 

"Lisa,  you  can  be  hateful  sometimes!"  she 
cried. 

"  It's  only  for  your  good,  if  I'm  hateful  now," 
I  said.  "  I  don't  want  to  have  you  disappointed, 
when  it's  too  late.  I  want  you  to  keep  your  eyes 
open,  and  see  exactly  where  you're  going.  It's 
the  truest  thing  ever  said  that  '  love  is  blind.' 
You  can't  deny  that  you're  in  love  with  Ivor 
Dundas." 

"  I  don't  deny  it,"  she  answered,  with  a  proud 
air  which  would,  I  suppose,  have  made  Ivor  want 
to  kiss  her. 

"  And  you  didn't  deny  it  to  him?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't.  But  thanks  to  you,  I  put  him 
upon  a  kind  of  probation.  I  wish  I  hadn't, 
now.  I  wish  I'd  shown  that  I  trusted  him  en- 
tirely. I  know  he  deserves  to  be  trusted;  and 
to-morrow  I  shall  tell  him " 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  commit  myself  any 
further  till  day  after  to-morrow,"  said  I  drily. 
"  Indeed,  you  couldn't  if  you  wanted  to,  unless 


44     THE  POWERS  AND  MAXINE 

you  wrote  or  wired.     You  won't  see  him  to-mor- 
row." 

'  Yes,  I  shall,"  she  contradicted  me,  opening 
those  big  hazel  eyes  of  hers,  that  looked  posi- 
tively black  with  excitement.  "  He's  going  to 
the  Duchess  of  Glasgow's  bazaar,  because  I  said 

I    should    most    likely    be    there:    and    I    will 
rfn          " 

'  "  But  he  won't." 

"  How  can  you  know  anything  about  it?  " 

"  I  do  know,  everything.  And  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  know,  if  you'll  promise  me  two  things." 

"  What  things?" 

"  That  you  won't  ask  me  how  I  found  out, 
and  that  you'll  swear  never  to  give  me  away  to 
anybody." 

"  Of  course  I  wouldn't  '  give  you  away/  as 
you  call  it.  But — I'm  not  sure  I  want  you  to 
tell  me.  I  have  faith  in  Ivor.  I'd  rather  not 
hear  stories  behind  his  back." 

"  Oh,  very  well,  then,  go  to  the  Duchess's  to- 
morrow," I  snapped,  "  and  wear  your  prettiest 
frock  to  please  Ivor,  when  just  about  that  time 
he'll  be  arriving  in  Paris  to  keep  a  very  particu- 
lar engagement  with  Maxine  de  Renzie." 

Di  grew  suddenly  pale,  and  her  eyes  looked 
violet  instead  of  black.  "  I  don't  believe  he's 
going  to  Paris!"  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  know  he's  going.  And  I  know  he's 
going  especially  to  see  Maxine." 

"  It    can't    be.     He    told    me    to-night    he 


LISA   MAKES   MISCHIEF          45 

wouldn't  cross  the  street  to  see  her.  I — I  made 
it  a  condition — that  if  he  found  he  cared  enough 
for  her  to  want  to  see  her  again,  he  must  go,  of 
course:  but  he  must  give  up  all  thought  of  me. 
If  I'm  to  reign,  I  must  reign  alone." 

'  Well,  then,  on  thinking  it  over,  he  probably 
did  find  that  he  wanted  to  see  her." 

"  No.  For  he  loved  me  just  as  much  when 
we  parted,  only  half  an  hour  ago." 

'  Yet  at  least  two  hours  ago  he'd  arranged  a 
meeting  with  Maxine  for  to-morrow  afternoon." 

'  You're  dreaming." 

"  I  was  never  wider  awake:  or  if  I'm  dream- 
ing, you  can  dream  the  same  dream  if  you'll  be 
at  Victoria  Station  to-morrow,  or  rather  this 
morning,  when  the  boat  train  goes  out  at  10 
o'clock." 

"  I  will  be  there!  "  cried  Di,  changing  from  red 
to  white.  "  And  you  shall  be  with  me,  to  see 
that  you're  wrong.  I  know  you  will  be  wrong." 

"  That's  an  engagement,"  said  I.  "  At  10 
o'clock,  Victoria  Station,  just  you  and  I,  and 
nobody  else  in  the  house  the  wiser.  If  I'm  right, 
and  Ivor's  there,  shall  you  think  it  wise  to  give 
him  up  ?  'r 

"  He  might  be  obliged  to  go  to  Paris,  sud- 
denly, for  some  business  reason,  without  mean- 
ing to  call  on  Maxine  de  Renzie — in  which  case 
he'd  probably  write  me.  But — at  the  station,  I 
shall  ask  him  straight  out — that  is,  if  he's  there, 
as  I'm  sure  he  won't  be — whether  he  intends  to 


46    THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

see  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie.  If  he  says  no,  I'll 
believe  him.  If  he  says  yes 

'  You'll  tell  him  all  is  over  between  you? " 

"  He'd  know  that  without  my  telling,  after 
our  talk  last  night." 

"  And  whatever  happens,  you  will  say  nothing 
about  having  heard  Maxine's  name  from  me?  " 

"  Nothing,"  Di  answered.  And  I  knew  she 
would  keep  her  word. 


IVOR  DUNDAS'  POINT  OF  VIEW 


CHAPTER  IV 

IVOR   TRAVELS   TO   PARIS 

IT  is  rather  a  startling  sensation  for  a  man  to 
be  caught  suddenly  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  so 
to  speak,  and  pitched  out  of  heaven  down  to — 
the  other  place. 

But  that  was  what  happened  to  me  when  I 
arrived  at  Victoria  Station,  on  my  way  to  Paris. 

I  had  taken  my  ticket  and  hurried  on  to  the 
platform  without  too  much  time  to  spare  (I'd 
been  warned  not  to  risk  observation  by  being  too 
early)  when  I  came  face  to  face  with  the  girl 
whom,  at  any  other  time,  I  should  have  liked 
best  to  meet:  whom  at  that  particular  time  I 
least  wished  to  meet:  Diana  Forrest. 

"  The  Imp  " — Lisa  Drummond — was  with 
her:  but  I  saw  only  Di  at  first — Di,  looking  a 
little  pale  and  harassed,  but  beautiful  as  al- 
ways. Only  last  night  I  had  told  her  that  Paris 
bad  no  attractions  for  me.  I  had  said  that  I 
didn't  care  to  see  Maxine  de  Renzie :  yet  here  I 
was  on  the  way  to  see  her,  and  here  was  Di  dis- 
covering me  in  the  act  of  going  to  see,  her. 

Of  course  I  could  lie;  and  I  suppose  some 
men,  even  men  of  honour,  would  think  it  justi- 

49 


50     THE    POWERS   AND   MAXIXE 

fiable  as  well  as  wise  to  lie  in  such  a  case,  when 
explanations  were  forbidden.  But  I  couldn't 
lie  to  a  girl  I  loved  as  I  love  Diana  Forrest.  It 
would  have  sickened  me  with  life  and  with  my- 
self to  do  it:  and  it  was  with  the  knowledge  in 
my  mind  that  I  could  not  and  would  not  lie,  that 
I  had  to  greet  her  with  a  conventional  "  Good 
morning." 

"  Are  you  going  out  of  town?  "  I  asked,  with 
my  hat  off  for  her  and  for  the  Imp,  whose 
strange  little  weazened  face  I  now  saw  looking 
over  my  tall  love's  shoulders.  It  had  never 
before  struck  me  that  the  Imp  was  like  a  cat; 
but  suddenly  the  resemblance  struck  me — some- 
thing in  the  poor  little  creature's  expression,  it 
must  have  been,  or  in  her  greenish  grey  eyes 
which  seemed  at  that  moment  to  concentrate  all 
the  knowledge  of  old  and  evil  things  that  has 
ever  come  into  the  world  since  the  days  of  the 
early  Egyptians — when  a  cat  was  worshipped. 

"  No,  I'm  not  going  out  of  towrn,"  Di  an- 
swered. "  I  came  here  to  meet  you,  in  case  you 
should  be  leaving  by  this  train,  and  I  brought 
Lisa  with  me." 

;<  Who  told  you  I  was  leaving? "  I  asked, 
hoping  for  a  second  or  two  that  the  Foreign 
Secretary  had  confided  to  her  something  of  his 
secret — guessing  ours,  perhaps,  and  that  my 
unexpected,  inexplicable  absence  might  injure 
me  with  her. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,"  she  answered.     "  I  didn't 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO    PARIS       51 

believe  you  would  go;  even  though  I  got  your 
letter  by  the  eight  o'clock  post  this  morning." 

"  I'm  glad  you  got  that,"  I  said.  "  I  posted 
it  soon  after  I  left  you  last  night." 

'  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  when  we  were  bid- 
ding each  other  good-bye,  that  you  wouldn't  be 
able  to  see  me  this  afternoon,  instead  of  waiting 
to  write? " 

"  Frankly  and  honestly,"  I  said  (for  I  had  to 
say  it),  "just  at  the  moment,  and  only  for  the 
moment,  I  forgot  about  the  Duchess  of  Glas- 
gow's bazaar.  That  was  because,  after  I  decided 
to  drop  in  at  the  bazaar,  something  happened 
which  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  go.  In  my 
letter  I  begged  you  to  let  me  see  you  to-morrow 
instead ;  and  now  I  beg  it  again.  Do  say  '  yes.' ' 

"  I'll  say  yes  on  one  condition — and  gladly," 
she  replied,  with  an  odd,  pale  little  smile,  "  that 
you  tell  me  where  you're  going  this  morning. 
I  know  it  must  seem  horrid  in  me  to  ask,  but — 
but — oh,  Ivor,  it  isnt  horrid,  really.  You 
wouldn't  think  it  horrid  if  you  could  under- 
stand." 

"  I'm  going  to  Paris,"  I  answered,  beginning 
to  feel  as  if  I  had  a  cold  potato  where  my  heart 
ought  to  be.  "  I  am  obliged  to  go,  on  business." 

'  You  didn't  say  anything  about  Paris  in  your 
letter  this  morning,  when  you  told  me  you 
couldn't  come  to  the  Duchess's,"  said  Di,  looking 
like  a  beautiful,  unhappy  child,  her  eyes  big  and 
appealing,  her  mouth  proud.  "  You  only  men- 


52     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

tioned  '  an  urgent  engagement  which  you'd  for- 
gotten.' ' 

"  I  thought  that  would  be  enough  to  explain, 
in  a  hurry,"  I  told  her,  lamely. 

"  So  it  was — so  it  would  have  been,"  she  fal- 
tered, "  if  it  hadn't  been  for — what  we  said  last 
night  about — Paris.  And  then —  I  can't  explain 
to  you,  Ivor,  any  more  than  it  seems  you  can  to 
me.  But  I  did  hear  you  meant  to  go  there,  and 
— after  our  talk,  I  couldn't  believe  it.  I  didn't 
come  to  the  station  to  find  you ;  I  came  because  I 
was  perfectly  sure  I  wouldn't  find  you,  and 
wanted  to  prove  that  I  hadn't  found  you.  Yet 
— you're  here." 

"And,  though  I  am  here,  you  will  trust  me 
just  the  same,"  I  said,  as  firmly  as  I  could. 

"  Of  course.     I'll  trust  you,  if " 

"  If  what? " 

"  If  you'll  tell  me  just  one  little,  tiny  thing: 
that  you're  not  going  to  see  Maxine  de  Renzie." 

"  I  may  see  her,"  I  admitted. 

"  But — but  at  least,  you're  not  going  on  pur- 
pose?" 

This  drove  me  into  a  corner.  Without  being 
disloyal  to  the  Foreign  Secretary,  I  could  not 
deny  all  personal  desire  to  meet  Maxine.  Yet 
to  what  suspicion  wras  I  not  laying  myself  open 
in  confessing  that  I  deliberately  intended  to  see 
her,  having  sworn  by  all  things  a  man  does  sweat 
by  when  he  wishes  to  please  a  girl,  that  I  didn't 
wish  to  see  Maxine,  and  would  not  see  Maxine? 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO    PARIS       53 

"  You  said  you'd  trust  me,  Di,"  I  reminded 
her.    "  For  Heaven's  sake  don't  break  that  prom- 


ise." 


"  But — if  you're  breaking  a  promise  to 
me?" 

"A  promise?" 

"Worse,  then!  Because  I  didn't  ask  you  to 
promise.  I  had  too  much  faith  in  you  for  that. 
I  believed  you  when  you  said  you  didn't  care  for 
— anyone  but  me.  I've  told  Lisa.  It  doesn't 
matter  our  speaking  like  this  before  her.  I 
asked  you  to  wait  for  my  promise  for  a  little 
while,  until  I  could  be  quite  sure  you  didn't  think 
of  Miss  de  Renzie  as — some  people  fancied  you 
did.  If  you  wanted  to  see  her,  I  said  you  must 
go,  and  you  laughed  at  the  idea.  Yet  the  very 
next  morning,  by  the  first  train,  you  start." 

"  Only  because  I  am  obliged  to,"  I  hazarded 
in  spite  of  the  Foreign  Secretary  and  his  pre- 
cautions. But  I  was  punished  for  my  lack  of 
them  by  making  matters  worse  instead  of  better 
for  myself. 

"Obliged  to!"  she  echoed.  "Then  there's 
something  you  must  settle  with  her,  before  you 
can  be — free." 

The  guard  was  shutting  the  carriage  doors. 
In  another  minute  I  should  lose  the  train.  And 
I  must  not  lose  the  train.  For  her  future  and 
mine,  as  well  as  Maxine's,  I  must  not. 

"  Dearest,"  I  said  hurriedly,  "  I  am  free. 
There's  no  question  of  freedom.  Yet  I  shall 


54    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

have  to  go.     I  hold  you  to  your  word.     Trust 


me." 


"  Not  if  you  go  to  her — this  day  of  all  days." 
The  words  were  wrung  from  the  poor  child's 
lips,  I  could  see,  by  sheer  anguish,  and  it  was 
like  death  to  me  that  I  should  have  to  cause  her 
this  anguish,  instead  of  soothing  it. 

'You  shall.  You  must,"  I  commanded, 
rather  than  implored.  "  Good-bye,  darling — 
precious  one.  I  shall  think  of  you  every  instant, 
and  I  shall  come  back  to  you  to-morrow." 

'  You  needn't.  You  need  never  come  to  me 
again,"  she  said,  white  lipped.  And  the  guard 
whistled,  waving  his  green  flag. 

"  Don't  dare  to  say  such  a  cruel  thing — a  thing 
you  don't  mean!  "  I  cried,  catching  at  the  closed 
door  of  a  first-class  compartment.  As  I  did  so, 
a  little  man  inside  jumped  to  the  window  and 
shouted,  "  Reserved !  Don't  you  see  it's  re- 
served?" which  explained  the  fact  that  the 
door  seemed  to  be  fastened. 

I  stepped  back,  my  eyes  falling  on  the  label 
to  which  the  man  pointed,  and  wrould  have  tried 
the  handle  of  the  next  carriage,  had  not  two  men 
rushed  at  the  door  as  the  train  began  to  move, 
and  dexterously  opened  it  with  a  railway  key. 
Their  throwing  themselves  thus  in  my  way  would 
have  lost  me  my  last  chance  of  catching  the  mov- 
ing train,  had  I  not  dashed  in  after  them.  If  I 
could  choose,  I  would  be  the  last  man  to  obtrude 
myself  where  I  was  not  wanted,  but  there  was 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO    PARIS       55 

no  time  to  choose;  and  I  was  thankful  to  get  in 
anywhere,  rather  than  break  my  word.  Besides, 
my  heart  was  too  sore  at  leaving  Diana  as  I  had 
had  to  leave  her,  to  care  much  for  anything  else. 
I  had  just  sense  enough  to  fight  my  way  in, 
though  the  two  men  with  the  key  (not  the  one 
who  had  occupied  the  compartment  first),  now 
yelled  that  it  was  reserved,  and  would  have 
pushed  me  out  if  I  hadn't  been  too  strong  for 
them.  I  had  a  dim  impression  that,  instead  of 
joining  with  the  newcomers,  the  first  man,  who 
would  have  kept  the  place  to  himself  before  their 
entrance,  seemed  willing  to  aid  me  against  the 
others.  They  being  once  foisted  upon  him,  he 
appeared  to  wish  for  my  presence  too,  or  else  he 
merely  desired  to  prevent  me  from  being  dashed 
onto  the  platform  and  perhaps  killed,  for  he 
thrust  out  a  hand  and  tried  to  pull  me  in. 

At  the  same  time  a  guard  came  along,  protest- 
ing against  the  unseemly  struggle,  and  the  car- 
riage door  was  slammed  shut  upon  us  all  four. 

When  I  got  my  balance,  and  was  able  to  look 
out,  the  train  had  gone  so  far  that  Diana  and 
Lisa  had  been  swept  away  from  my  sight.  It 
was  like  a  bad  omen ;  and  the  fear  was  cold  upon 
me  that  I  had  lost  my  love  for  ever. 

At  that  moment  I  suffered  so  atrociously  that 
if  it  had  not  been  too  late,  I  fear  I  should  have 
sacrificed  Maxine  and  the  Foreign  Secretary  and 
even  the  Entente  Cordiale  (provided  he  had  not 
been  exaggerating)  for  Di's  sake,  and  love's 


56    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

sake.  But  there  was  no  going  back  now,  even 
if  I  would.  The  train  was  already  travelling 
almost  at  full  speed,  and  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  resign  myself  to  the  inevitable,  and  hope 
for  the  best.  Someone,  it  was  clear,  had  tried 
to  work  mischief  between  Diana  and  me,  and 
there  were  only  too  many  chances  that  he  had 
succeeded.  Could  it  be  Bob  West,  I  asked  my- 
self, as  I  half-dazedly  looked  for  a  place  to  sit 
down  among  the  litter  of  small  luggage  with 
which  the  first  occupant  of  the  carriage  had 
strewn  every  seat.  I  knew  that  Bob  was  as  much 
in  love  with  Di  as  a  man  of  his  rather  unintel- 
lectual,  unimaginative  type  could  be,  and  he 
hadn't  shown  himself  as  friendly  lately  to  me  as 
he  once  had:  still,  I  didn't  think  he  was  the  sort 
of  fellow  to  trip  up  a  rival  in  the  race  by  a  trick, 
even  if  he  could  possibly  have  found  out  that  I 
was  going  to  Paris  this  morning. 

'  Won't  you  sit  here,  sir? "  a  voice  broke  into 
my  thoughts,  and  I  saw  that  the  little  man  had 
cleared  a  place  for  me  next  his  own,  which  was 
in  a  corner  facing  the  engine.  Thanking  him 
absent-mindedly,  I  sat  down,  and  began  to  ob- 
serve my  travelling  companions  for  the  first  time. 

So  far,  their  faces  had  been  mere  blurs  for  me : 
but  now  it  struck  me  that  all  three  were  rather 
peculiar;  that  is,  peculiar  when  seen  in  a  first- 
class  carriage. 

The  man  who  had  reserved  the  compartment 
for  himself,  and  who  had  removed  a  bundle  of 


IVOR  TRAVELS  TO  PARIS        57 

golf  sticks  from  the  seat  to  make  room  for  me, 
did  not  look  like  a  typical  golfer,  nor  did  he 
appear  at  all  the  sort  of  person  who  might  be 
expected  to  reserve  a  whole  compartment  for 
himself.  He  was  small  and  thin,  and  weedy, 
with  little  blinking,  pink-rimmed  eyes  of  the  kind 
which  ought  to  have  had  white  lashes  instead  of 
the  sparse,  jet  black  ones  that  rimmed  them. 
'His  forehead,  though  narrow,  suggested  shrewd- 
ness, as  did  the  expression  of  those  light  coloured 
eyes  of  his,  which  were  set  close  to  the  sharp, 
slightly  up-turned  nose.  His  hair  was  so  black 
that  it  made  his  skin  seem  singularly  pallid, 
though  it  was  only  sallow;  and  a  mean,  rabbit 
mouth  worked  nervously  over  two  prominent 
teeth.  Though  his  clothes  were  good,  and  new, 
they  had  the  air  of  having  been  bought  ready 
made;  and  in  spite  of  his  would-be  "  smart "  get 
up,  the  man  (who  might  have  been  anywhere 
between  thirty  and  thirty-eight)  looked  some- 
what like  an  ex-groom,  or  bookmaker,  mas- 
querading as  a  "  swell." 

The  two  intruders  who  had  violated  the  sanc- 
tity of  the  reserved  compartment  by  means  of 
their  railway  key  were  both  bigger  and  more 
manly  than  he  who  had  a  right  to  it.  One  was 
dark,  and  probably  Jewish,  with  a  heavy  beard 
and  moustache,  in  the  midst  of  which  his  sensual 
and  cruel  mouth  pouted  disagreeably  red.  The 
other  was  puffy  and  flushed,  with  a  brick- 
coloured  complexion  deeply  pitted  by  small-pox. 


58     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

They  also  were  flashily  dressed  with  "  horsey  " 
neckties  and  conspicuous  scarf-pins.  As  I 
glanced  at  the  pair,  they  were  talking  together 
in  a  low  voice,  with  an  open  newspaper  held  up 
between  them ;  but  the  man  who  had  helped  me  in 
against  their  will  sat  silent,  staring  out  of  the 
window  and  uneasily  fingering  his  collar.  Not 
one  of  the  trio  was,  apparently,  paying  the  slight- 
est attention  to  me,  now  that  I  was  seated ;  never- 
theless I  thought  of  the  large,  long  letter-case 
which  I  carried  in  an  inner  breast  pocket  of  my 
carefully  buttoned  coat.  I  would  not  attract 
attention  to  the  contents  of  that  pocket  by  touch- 
ing it,  to  assure  myself  that  it  was  safe,  but  I 
had  done  so  just  before  meeting  Di,  and  I  felt 
certain  that  nothing  could  have  happened  to  it 
since. 

I  folded  my  arms  across  my  chest,  glanced  up 
to  see  where  the  cord  of  communication  might  be 
found  in  case  of  emergency;  and  then  reflected 
that  these  men  were  not  likely  to  be  dangerous, 
since  I  had  followed  them  into  the  compartment, 
not  they  me.  This  thought  was  reassuring,  as 
they  were  three  to  one  if  they  combined  against 
me,  and  the  train  was,  unfortunately,  not  entirely 
a  corridor  train.  Therefore,  having  assured  my- 
self that  I  was  not  among  spies  bent  on  having 
my  life  or  the  secret  I  carried,  I  forgot  about  my 
fellow-travellers,  and  fell  into  gloomy  specu- 
lations as  to  my  chances  with  Diana.  I  had 
been  loving  her,  thinking  of  little  else  but 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS       59 

her  and  my  hopes  of  her,  for  many  months  now; 
but  never  had  I  realised  what  a  miserable,  empty 
world  it  would  be  for  me  without  Di  for  my 
own,  as  I  did  now,  when  I  had  perhaps  lost  her. 

Not  that  I  wrould  allow  myself  to  think  that  I 
could  not  get  her  back.  I  would  not  think  it. 
I  would  force  her  to  believe  in  me,  to  trust  me, 
even  to  repent  her  suspicions,  though  appear- 
ances were  all  against  me,  and  Heaven  knew  how 
much  or  when  I  might  be  permitted  to  explain. 
I  would  not  be  a  man  if  I  took  her  at  her  word, 
and  let  her  slip  from  me,  no  matter  how  many 
times  that  word  were  repeated;  so  I  told  myself 
over  and  over.  Yet  a  voice  inside  me  seemed 
to  say  that  nothing  could  be  as  it  had  been ;  that 
I'd  sacrificed  my  happiness  to  please  a  stranger, 
and  to  save  a  woman  whom  I  had  never  really 
loved. 

Di  was  so  beautiful,  so  sweet,  so  used  to  being 
admired  by  men;  there  were  so  many  who  loved 
her,  so  many  with  a  thousand  times  more  to  offer 
than  I  had  or  would  ever  have :  how  could  I  hope 
that  she  would  go  on  caring  for  me,  after  what 
had  happened  to-day?  I  wondered.  She  hadn't 
said  in  actual  words  last  night  that  she  would 
marry  me,  whereas  this  morning  she  had  almost 
said  she  never  would.  I  should  have  nobody  to 
blame  but  myself  if  I  came  back  to  London  to- 
morrow to  find  her  engaged  to  Lord  Robert 
West — a  man  who,  as  his  brother  has  no  children, 
might  some  day  make  her  a  Duchess. 


60    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  Sorry  to  have  seemed  rude  just  now,  sir," 
said  one  of  the  two  railway-key  men,  suddenly 
reminding  me  of  his  unnecessary  existence. 
"  Hardly  knew  what  I  was  about  when  I  shoved 
you  away  from  the  door.  Me  and  my  friend 
was  afraid  of  missing  the  train,  so  we  pushed 
—instinct  of  self-preservation,  I  suppose,"  and 
he  chuckled  as  if  he  had  got  off  some  witticism. 
"  Anyhow,  I  apologise.  Nothing  intentional, 
'pon  my  word." 

"  Thanks.  No  apology  is  necessary,"  I  re- 
plied as  indifferently  as  I  felt. 

"  That's  all  right,  then,"  finished  the  Jewish- 
faced  man,  who  had  spoken.  He  turned  to  his 
companion,  and  the  two  resumed  their  conversa- 
tion behind  the  newspaper:  but  I  now  became 
conscious  that  they  occasionally  glanced  over  the 
top  at  their  neighbour  or  at  me,  as  if  their  whole 
attention  were  not  taken  up  with  the  news  of  the 
day. 

Any  interest  they  might  feel  in  me,  provided 
it  had  nothing  to  do  with  a  certain  pocket,  they 
were  welcome  to:  but  the  little  man  was  appar- 
ently not  of  the  same  mind  concerning  himself. 
His  nervously  twitching  hand  on  the  upholstered 
seat-arm  which  separated  his  place  from  mine 
attracted  my  attention,  which  was  then  drawn  up 
to  his  face.  He  was  so  sickly  pale,  under  a  kind 
of  yellowish  glaze  spread  over  his  complexion, 
that  I  thought  he  must  be  ill,  perhaps  suffering 
from  train  sickness,  in  anxious  anticipation  of 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS       61 

the  horrors  which  might  be  in  store  for  him  on 
the  boat.  Presently  he  pulled  out  a  red-bordered 
handkerchief,  and  unobstrusively  wiped  his  fore- 
head, under  his  checked  travelling  cap.  When 
he  had  done  this,  I  saw  that  his  hair  was  left 
streaked  with  damp ;  and  there  was  a  faint,  pur- 
plish stain  on  the  handkerchief,  observing  which 
with  evident  dismay  he  stuffed  the  big  square  of 
coarse  cambric  hastily  into  his  pocket. 

"  The  little  beast  must  dye  his  hair,"  I  thought 
contemptuously.  "  Perhaps  he's  an  albino,  really. 
His  eyes  look  like  it." 

With  that,  he  threw  a  frightened  glance  at  me, 
which  caused  me  to  turn  away  and  spare  him  the 
humiliation  of  knowing  that  he  was  observed. 
But  immediately  after,  he  made  an  effort  to  pull 
himself  together,  picking  up  a  book  he  had  laid 
down  to  wipe  his  forehead  and  holding  it  so 
close  to  his  nose  that  the  printed  page  must  have 
been  a  mere  blur,  unless  he  were  very  near- 
sighted. Thus  he  sat  for  some  time;  yet  I  felt 
that  no  look  thrown  by  the  other  two  was  lost  on 
him.  He  seemed  to  know  each  time  one  of  them 
peered  over  the  newspaper;  and  when  at  last  the 
train  slowed  down  by  the  Admiralty  Pier  all  his 
nervousness  returned.  His  small,  thin  hands, 
freckled  on  their  backs,  hovered  over  one  piece  of 
luggage  after  another,  as  if  he  could  not  decide 
how  to  pile  the  things  together. 

Naturally  I  had  not  brought  my  man  with  me 
on  this  errand,  therefore  I  had  let  my  suitcase  go 


62     THE  POWERS  AND  MAXIXE 

into  the  van,  that  I  might  have  both  hands  free, 
and  I  had  nothing  to  do  when  the  train  stopped 
but  jump  out  and  make  for  the  boat.  Xeverthe- 
less  I  lingered,  folding  up  a  newspaper,  and  tear- 
ing an  article  out  of  a  magazine  by  way  of 
excuse;  for  it  was  not  my  object  to  be  caught  in 
a  crowd  and  hustled,  perhaps,  by  some  clever 
wretches  wrho  might  be  lying  in  wait  for  what  I 
had  in  my  pocket.  It  seemed  impossible  that 
anyone  could  have  learned  that  I  was  playing 
messenger  between  the  British  Secretary  for 
Foreign  Affairs  and  Maxine  de  Renzie:  still, 
the  danger  and  difficulty  of  the  apparently  simple 
mission  had  been  so  strongly  impressed  on  me  that 
I  did  not  intend  to  neglect  any  precaution. 

I  lingered  therefore;  and  the  Jewish-looking 
man  with  his  heavy-faced  friend  lingered  also, 
for  some  reason  of  their  own.  They  had  no  lug- 
gage, except  a  small  handbag  each,  but  these  they 
opened  at  the  last  minute  to  stuff  in  their  news- 
papers, and  apparently  to  review  the  other  con- 
tents. Presently,  when  the  first  rush  for  the  boat 
was  over,  and  the  porters  who  had  come  to  the 
door  of  our  compartment  had  gone  away  empty- 
handed,  I  would  have  got  out,  had  I  not  caught 
an  imploring  glance  from  the  little  man  who 
had  reserved  the  carriage.  Perhaps  I  imagined 
it,  but  his  pink-rimmed  eyes  seemed  to  say,  "  For 
heaven's  sake,  don't  leave  me  alone  with  these 
others." 

"  Would  you  be  so  very  kind,  sir,"  he  said  to 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS       63 

me,  "to  beckon  a  porter,  as  you  are  near  the 
door?  I  find  after  all  that  I  shan't  be  able  to 
carry  everything  myself." 

I  did  as  he  asked ;  and  there  was  so  much  con- 
fusion in  the  carriage  when  the  porter  came,  that 
in  self-defence  the  two  friends  got  out  with  their 
bags.  I  also  descended  and  would  have  followed 
in  the  wake  of  the  crowd,  if  the  little  man  had 
not  called  after  me.  He  had  lost  his  ticket,  he 
said.  Would  I  be  so  extremely  obliging  as  to 
throw  an  eye  about  the. platform  to  see  if  it  had 
fallen  there? 

I  did  oblige  him  in  this  manner,  without  avail ; 
but  by  this  time  he  had  found  the  missing  treasure 
in  the  folds  of  his  travelling  rug ;  and  scrambling 
out  of  the  carriage,  attended  by  the  porter  I  had 
secured  for  him,  he  would  have  walked  by  my 
side  towards  the  boat,  had  I  not  dropped  behind  a 
few  steps,  thinking — as  always — of  the  contents 
of  that  inner  breast  pocket. 

He  and  I  were  now  at  the  tail-end  of  the  pro- 
cession hastening  boatward,  or  almost  at  the  tail, 
for  there  were  but  four  or  five  other  passengers 
— a  family  party  with  a  fat  nurse  and  crying 
baby — behind  us.  As  I  approached  the  gang- 
way, I  saw  on  deck  my  late  travelling  compan- 
ions, the  Jewish  man  and  his  friend,  regarding  us 
with  interest.  Then,  just  as  I  was  about  to  step 
on  board,  almost  on  the  little  man's  heels,  there 
came  a  cry  apparently  from  someone  ahead: 
"  Look  out — gangway's  falling !  " 


In  an  instant  all  was  confusion.  The  fat 
nurse  behind  me  screamed,  as  the  nervous  fellow 
in  front  leaped  like  a  cat,  intent  on  saving  himself 
no  matter  what  happened  to  anyone  else,  and 
flung  me  against  the  woman  with  the  baby.  Two 
or  three  excitable  Frenchmen  just  ahead  also 
attempted  to  turn,  thus  nearly  throwing  the  little 
man  onto  his  knees.  The  large  bag  which  he 
carried  hit  me  across  the  shins;  in  his  terror  he 
almost  embraced  me  as  he  helped  himself  up ;  the 
nurse,  as  she  stumbled,  pitched  forward  onto  my 
shoulder,  and  if  I  had  not  seized  the  howling  baby, 
it  would  certainly  have  fallen  under  our  feet. 

My  bowler  was  knocked  over  my  eyes,  and 
though  an  officer  of  the  boat  cried  the  reassuring 
intelligence  that  it  was  a  false  alarm — that  the 
gangway  was  "  all  right,"  and  never  had  been 
anything  but  all  right,  I  could  not  readjust  my 
hat  nor  see  what  was  going  on  until  the  fat  nurse 
had  obligingly  retrieved  her  charge,  without  a 
word  of  thanks. 

My  first  thought  was  for  the  letter-case  in  my 
pocket,  for  I  had  a  horrible  idea  that  the  scare 
might  have  been  got  up  for  the  express  purpose 
of  robbing  me  of  it.  But  I  could  feel  its  outline 
as  plainly  as  ever  under  my  coat,  and  decided, 
thankfully,  that  after  all  the  alarm  had  had 
nothing  to  do  with  me. 

I  had  wired  for  a  private  cabin,  thinking  it 
would  be  well  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  my  fellow- 
passengers  during  the  crossing:  but  the  weather 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO    PARIS       65 

had  been  rough  for  a  day  or  two  (it  was  not  yet 
the  middle  of  April)  and  everything  was  already 
engaged;  therefore  I  walked  the  deck  most  of 
the  time,  always  conscious  of  the  unusual  thick- 
ness of  my  breast  pocket.  The  little  man  paced 
up  and  down,  too,  though  his  yellow  face  grew 
slowly  green,  and  he  would  have  been  much  bet- 
ter off  below,  lying  on  his  back.  As  for  the  two 
others,  they  also  remained  on  deck,  talking 
together  as  they  leaned  against  the  rail;  but 
though  I  passed  them  now  and  again,  I  noticed 
that  the  little  man  invariably  avoided  them  by 
turning  before  he  reached  their  "  pitch." 

At  the  Gare  du  Nord  I  regretted  that  I  had 
not  carried  my  own  bag,  because  if  I  had  it  would 
have  been  examined  on  the  boat,  and  all  bother 
would  have  been  over.  But  rather  than  run  any 
risks  in  the  crowd  thronging  the  douane,  I 
decided  to  let  the  suitcase  look  after  itself,  and 
send  down  for  it  with  the  key  from  the  hotel  later. 
Again  the  little  man  was  close  to  my  side  as  I 
went  in  search  of  a  cab,  for  all  his  things  had  been 
gone  through  by  the  custom  house  officer  in  mid- 
channel,  so  that  he  too  was  free  to  depart  without 
delay.  He  even  seemed  to  cling  to  me,  somewhat 
wistfully,  and  I  half  thought  he  meant  to  speak, 
but  he  did  not,  save  for  a  "  good  evening,  sir," 
as  I  separated  myself  from  him  at  last.  He  had 
stuck  rather  too  close,  elbow  to  elbow;  but  I  had 
no  fear  for  the  letter-case,  as  he  was  on  the  wrong 
side  to  play  any  conjurer's  tricks  with  that.  The 


66    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

last  I  saw  of  the  fellow,  he  was  walking  toward 
a  cab,  and  looking  uneasily  over  his  shoulder  at 
his  two  late  travelling  companions,  who  were 
getting  into  another  vehicle  near  by. 

I  went  straight  to  the  £lysee  Palace  Hotel, 
where  I  had  never  stopped  before — a  long  drive 
from  the  Gare  du  Nord — and  claimed  the  rooms 
for  which  "  Mr.  George  Sandford  "  had  wired 
from  London.  The  suite  engaged  was  a  charm- 
ing one,  and  the  private  salon  almost  worthy  to 
receive  the  lovely  lady  I  expected.  Nor  did  she 
keep  me  waiting.  I  had  had  time  only  to  give 
instructions  about  sending  a  man  with  a  key  to 
the  station  for  my  luggage,  to  say  that  a  lady 
would  call,  to  reach  my  rooms,  and  to  draw  the 
curtains  over  the  windows,  when  a  knock  came  at 
the  salon  door.  I  was  in  the  act  of  turning  on 
the  electric  light  when  this  happened,  but  to  my 
surprise  the  room  remained  in  darkness — or 
rather,  in  a  pink  dusk  lent  by  the  colour  of  the 
curtains. 

"  The  lady  has  arrived,  Monsieur,"  announced 
the  servant.  "As  Monsieur  expected  her,  she 
has  come  up  without  waiting;  but  I  regret  that 
something  has  gone  wrong  with  the  electricity,  all 
over  the  hotel.  It  was  but  just  now  discovered, 
at  time  for  turning  on  the  lights,  otherwise  lamps 
and  plenty  of  candles  would  have  been  provided, 
though  no  doubt  the  light  will  fonctionne  prop- 
erly in  a  few  minutes.  If  Monsieur  permits, 
I  will  instantly  bring  him  a  lamp." 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS       67 

"  No,  thank  you,"  I  said  hurriedly,  for  I  did 
not  wish  to  be  interrupted  in  the  midst  of  my 
important  interview  with  Maxine.  "  If  the  light 
comes  on,  it  will  be  all  right:  if  not,  I  will  put 
back  the  curtains;  and  it  is  not  yet  quite  dark. 
Show  the  lady  in." 

Into  the  pink  twilight  of  the  curtained  room 
came  Maxine  de  Renzie,  whose  tall  and  noble 
figure  I  recognised  in  its  plain,  close-fitting  black 
dress,  though  her  wide  brimmed  hat  was  draped 
with  a  thickly  embroidered  veil  that  completely 
hid  her  face,  while  long,  graceful  lace  folds 
fell  over  and  obscured  the  bright  auburn  of  her 
hair. 

"  One  moment,"  I  said.  "  Let  me  push  Hie 
curtains  back.  The  electricity  has  failed." 

"  No,  no,"  she  answered.  "  Better  leave  them 
as  they  are.  The  lights  may  come  on  and  we 
be  seen  from  outside.  Why," — as  she  drew 
nearer  to  me,  and  the  servant  closed  the  door, 
"  I  thought  I  recognised  that  voice!  It  is  Ivor 
Dundas." 

"No  other,"  said  I.  "Didn't  the— weren't 
you  warned  who  would  be  the  man  to  come? " 

"  No,"  she  replied.  "  Only  the  assumed  name 
of  the  messenger  and  place  of  meeting  were 
wired.  It  was  safer  so,  even  though  the  telegram 
was  in  a  cypher  which  I  trust  nobody  knows — 
except  myself  and  one  other.  But  I'm  glad — 
glad  it's  you.  It  was  clever  of — him,  to  have 
sent  you.  No  one  would  dream  that — no  one 


68    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

would  think  it  strange  if  they  knew — as  I  hope 
they  won't — that  you  came  to  Paris  to  see  me. 
Oh,  the  relief  that  you've  got  through  safely! 
Nothing  has  happened?  You  have — the  paper?  " 

"  Nothing  has  happened,  and  I  have  the 
paper,"  I  reassured  her.  "  No  adventures,  to 
speak  of,  on  the  way,  and  no  reason  to  think  I've 
been  spotted.  Anyway,  here  I  am;  and  here  is 
something  which  will  put  an  end  to  your  anxiety." 
And  I  tapped  the  breast  of  my  coat,  mean- 
ingly. 

'  Thank  God! "  breathed  Maxine,  with  a  thrill- 
ing note  in  her  voice  which  would  have  done  her 
great  credit  on  the  stage,  though  I  am  sure  she 
was  never  further  in  her  life  from  the  thought  of 
acting.  "  After  all  I've  suffered,  it  seems  too 
good  to  be  true.  Give  it  to  me,  quick,  Ivor,  and 
let  me  ]go." 

"  I  will,"  I  said.  "  But  you  might  seem  to 
take  just  a  little  more  interest  in  me,  even  if  you 
don't  really  feel  it,  you  know.  You  might  just 
say,  *  How  have  you  been  for  the  last  twelve 
months? ' 

"  Oh,  I  do  take  an  interest,  and  I'm  grateful  to 
you — I  can't  tell  you  how  grateful.  But  I  have 
no  time  to  think  either  of  you  or  myself  now,"  she 
said,  eagerly.  "  If  you  knew  everything,  you'd 
understand." 

"  I  know  practically  nothing,"  I  confessed ; 
"  still,  I  do  understand.  I  was  only  teasing  you. 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS       69 

Forgive  me.  I  oughtn't  to  have  done  it,  even 
for  a  minute.  Here  is  the  letter-case  which  the 
Foreign — which  was  given  to  me  to  bring  to 
you." 

'Wait!"  she  exclaimed,  still  in  the  half 
whisper  from  which  she  had  never  departed. 
"Wait!  It  will  be  better  to  lock  the  door."  But 
even  as  she  spoke,  there  came  a  knock,  loud  and 
insistent.  With  a  spring,  she  flung  herself  on 
me,  her  hand  fumbling  for  the  pocket  I  had 
tapped  suggestively  a  moment  ago.  I  let  her 
draw  out  the  long  case  which  I  had  been  guarding 
—the  case  I  had  not  once  touched  since  leaving 
London,  except  to  feel  anxiously  for  its  outline 
through  my  buttoned  coat.  At  least,  whatever 
might  be  about  to  happen,  she  had  it  in  her  own 
hands  now. 

Neither  of  us  spoke  nor  made  a  sound  during 
the  instant  that  she  clung  to  me,  the  faint,  well- 
remembered  perfume  of  her  hair,  her  dress,  in 
my  nostrils.  But  as  she  started  away,  and  I 
knew  that  she  had  the  letter-case,  the  knock  came 
again.  Then,  before  I  could  be  sure  whether  she 
wished  for  time  to  hide,  or  whether  she  would 
have  me  cry  "  come  in,"  without  seeming  to  hesi- 
tate, the  door  opened.  For  a  second  or  two 
Maxine  and  I,  and  a  group  of  figures  at  the  door 
were  mere  shadows  in  the  ever  deepening  pink 
dusk:  but  I  could  scarcely  have  counted  ten 
before  the  long  expected  light  sprang  up.  I  had 


turned  it  on  in  more  than  one  place:  and  a  sud- 
den, brilliant  illumination  showed  me  a  tall  Com- 
missary of  Police,  with  two  little  gendarmes 
looking  over  his  shoulder. 

I  threw  a  glance  at  Maxine,  who  was  still 
veiled,  and  was  relieved  to  see  that  she  had  found 
some  means  of  putting  the  letter-case  out  of 
sight.  Having  ascertained  this,  I  sharply  en- 
quired in  French  what  in  the  devil's  name  the 
Commissary  of  Police  meant  by  walking  into  an 
Englishman's  room  without  being  invited;  and 
not  only  that,  but  what  under  heaven  he  wanted 
anyway. 

He  was  far  more  polite  than  I  was. 

"  Ten  thousand  pardons,  Monsieur,"  he  apol- 
ogised. "  I  knocked  twice,  but  hearing  no 
answer,  entered,  thinking  that  perhaps,  after  all, 
the  salon  was  unoccupied.  Important  business 
must  be  my  excuse.  I  have  to  request  that  Mon- 
sieur Dundas  will  first  place  in  my  hands  the 
gift  he  has  brought  from  London  to  Made- 
moiselle de  Renzie." 

"  I  have  brought  no  gift  for  Mademoiselle  de 
Renzie,"  I  prevaricated  boldly;  but  the  man's 
knowledge  of  my  name  was  ominous.  If  the 
Paris  police  had  contrived  to  learn  it  already,  as 
well  as  to  find  out  that  I  was  the  bearer  of  some- 
thing for  Maxine,  it  looked  as  if  they  knew 
enough  to  play  the  game  in  their  own  way — 
whatever  that  might  be. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  say,  the  thing  which  Made- 


IVOR   TRAVELS   TO   PARIS       71 

moiselle  lent — to  a  friend  in  England,  and 
Monsieur  has  now  kindly  returned,"  amended 
the  Commissary  of  Police  as  politely,  as 
patiently,  as  ever. 

"  Really,  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,"  I  said,  shrugging  my  shoulders  and  look- 
ing bewildered — or  hoping  that  I  looked  bewil- 
dered. All  the  while  I  was  wondering,  des- 
perately, if  this  meant  ruin  for  Maxine,  or  if  she 
would  still  find  some  way  of  saving  herself. 
But  all  I  could  do  for  her  at  the  moment  was  to 
keep  calm,  and  tell  as  many  lies  as  necessary.  I 
hadn't  been  able  to  lie  to  Diana;  but  I  had  no 
compunctions  about  doing  it  now,  if  it  were  to 
help  Maxine.  The  worst  was,  that  I  was  far 
from  sure  it  would  help  her. 

"  I  trust,  Monsieur,  that  you  do  not  wish  to 
prevent  the  French  police  from  doing  their 
duty,"  said  the  officer,  his  tone  becoming  peremp- 
tory for  the  first  time.  "  Should  you  attempt 
it,  I  should  unfortunately  be  compelled  to  order 
that  Monsieur  be  searched." 

'  You  seem  to  forget  that  you're  dealing  with 
a  British  subject,"  said  I. 

"  Who  is  offending  against  the  laws  of  a 
friendly  country,"  he  capped  my  words.  "  You 
can  complain  afterwards,  Monsieur.  But 
now " 

;*Why  don't  you  empty  your  pockets,  Mr. 
Dundas,"  suggested  Maxine,  lightly,  yet  con- 
temptuously, "  and  show  them  that  you've  noth- 


72     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

ing  in  which  the  police  can  have  any  interest? 
I  suppose  the  next  thing  they  propose,  will  be 
to  search  me." 

"  I  deeply  regret  to  say  that  will  be  the  next 
thing,  Mademoiselle,  unless  satisfaction  is  given 
to  me,"  returned  the  Commissary  of  Police. 

Maxine  threw  back  her  thick  veil;  and  if  this 
were  the  first  time  these  men  had  ever  seen  the 
celebrated  actress  off  the  stage,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  her  beauty  must  almost  have  dazzled  them, 
thus  suddenly  displayed.  For  Maxine  is  a  glori- 
ously handsome  woman,  and  never  had  she  been 
most  striking,  more  wonderful,  than  at  that 
moment,  when  her  dark  eyes  laughed  out  of  her 
white  face,  and  her  red  lips  smiled  as  if  neither 
they,  nor  the  great  eyes,  had  any  secret  to  hide. 

"  Look  at  me,"  she  said,  throwing  back  her 
arms  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  forward  her 
slender  body,  in  the  tight  black  sheath  of  the 
dress  which  was  of  the  fashion  which,  I  think, 
women  call  "  Princess."  It  fitted  her  as 
smoothly  as  the  gloves  that  covered  her  arms  to 
the  elbows. 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  much  chance  for  con- 
cealment in  this  dress? "  she  asked.  "  I  haven't 
a  pocket,  you  see.  No  self-respecting  woman 
could  have,  in  a  gown  like  this.  I  don't  know 
in  the  least  what  sort  of  *  gift '  my  old  friend 
is  supposed  to  have  brought  me.  Is  it  large  or 
small?  I'll  take  off  my  gloves  and  let  you  see 
my  rings,  if  you  like,  Monsieur  le  Commisaire, 


IVOR   TRAVELS   TO   PARIS       73 

for  I've  been  taught,  as  a  servant  of  the  public, 
to  be  civil  to  my  fellow  servants,  even  if  they 
should  be  unreasonable.  No?  You  don't  want 
to  see  my  rings?  Let  me  oblige  you  by  taking 
off  my  hat,  then.  I  might  have  put  the  thing — 
whatever  it  is — in  my  hair." 

As  she  spoke,  she  drew  out  her  hatpins,  still 
laughing  in  a  half  scornful,  half  good-natured 
way.  She  was  bewitching  as  she  stood  smiling, 
with  her  black  hat  and  veil  in  her  hand,  the  ruffled 
waves  of  her  dark  red  hair  shadowing  her  fore- 
head. 

Meanwhile,  fired  by  her  example,  I  turned  out 
the  contents  of  my  pockets:  a  letter  or  two;  a  flat 
gold  cigarette  case ;  a  match  box ;  my  watch,  and 
a  handkerchief:  also  in  an  outer  pocket  of  my 
coat,  a  small  bit  of  crumpled  paper  of  which  I 
had  no  recollection :  but  as  one  of  the  gendarmes 
politely  picked  it  up  from  the  floor,  where  it  had 
fallen,  and  handed  it  to  me  without  examining  it, 
mechanically  I  slipped  it  back  into  the  pocket, 
and  thought  no  more  of  it  at  the  time.  There 
were  too  many  other  things  to  think  of,  and  I 
was  wondering  what  on  earth  Maxine  could  have 
done  with  the  letter-case.  She  had  had  no  more 
than  two  seconds  in  which  to  dispose  of  it,  hardly 
enough,  it  seemed  to  me,  to  pass  it  from  one  hand 
to  another,  yet  apparently  it  was  well  hidden. 

"  Now,  are  you  satisfied? "  she  asked,  "  Now 
that  we  have  both  shown  you  we  have  nothing  to 
conceal;  or  would  you  like  to  take  me  to  the 


74    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

police  station,  and  have  some  dreadful  female 
search  me  more  thoroughly  still?  I'll  go  with 
you,  if  you  wish.  I  won't  even  be  indiscreet 
enough  to  ask  questions,  since  you  seem  inclined 
to  do  what  we've  no  need  to  do — keep  your  own 
secrets.  All  I  stipulate  is,  that  if  you  care  to 
take  such  measures  you'll  take  them  at  once,  for 
as  you  may  possibly  be  aware,  this  is  the  first 
night  of  my  new  play,  and  I  should  be  sorry  to 
be  late." 

The  Commissary  of  Police  looked  fixedly  at 
Maxine  for  a  moment,  as  if  he  would  read  her 
soul. 

"  No,  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "  I  am  convinced 
that  neither  you  nor  Monsieur  are  conceal- 
ing anything  about  your  persons.  I  will  not 
trouble  you  further  until  we  have  searched  the 
room." 

Maxine  could  not  blanch,  for  already  she  was 
as  white  as  she  will  be  when  she  lies  in  her  coffin. 
But  though  her  expression  did  not  change,  I 
saw  that  the  pupils  of  her  eyes  dilated.  Actress 
that  she  is,  she  could  control  her  muscles ;  but  she 
could  not  control  the  beating  of  the  blood  in  her 
brain.  I  felt  that  she  was  conscious  of  this 
betrayal,  under  the  gaze  of  the  policeman,  and 
she  laughed  to  distract  his  attention.  My  heart 
ached  for  her.  I  thought  of  a  meadow-lark 
maneuvering  to  hide  the  place  where  her  nest 
lies.  Poor,  beautiful  Maxine!  In  spite  of  her 
pride,  her  high  courage,  the  veneer  of  hardness 


IVOR   TRAVELS    TO   PARIS      75 

which  her  experience  of  the  world  had  given,  she 
was  infinitely  pathetic  in  my  eyes;  and  though  I 
had  never  loved  her,  though  I  did  love  another 
woman,  I  would  have  given  my  life  gladly  at  this 
minute  if  I  could  have  saved  her  from  the 
catastrophe  she  dreaded. 


CHAPTER   V 

IVOR  DOES  WHAT   HE   CAN  FOE  MAXINE 

"  How  long  a  time  do  you  think  I  had  been  in 
this  room,  Monsieur,"  she  asked,  "  before  you — 
rather  rudely,  I  must  say — broke  in  upon  my 
conversation  with  my  friend?" 

'  You  had  been  here  exactly  three  minutes," 
replied  the  Commissary  of  Police. 

"As  much  as  that?  I  should  have  thought 
less.  We  had  to  greet  each  other,  after  having 
been  parted  for  many  months;  and  still,  in  the 
three  minutes,  you  believe  that  we  had  time  to 
concoct  a  plot  of  some  sort,  and  to  find  some  safe 
corner — all  the  while  in  semi-darkness — for  the 
hiding  of  a  thing  important  to  the  police — a 
bomb,  perhaps?  You  must  think  us  very 
clever." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  very  clever,  Made- 
moiselle." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  the  com- 
pliment," she  answered,  allowing  anger  to  warm 
her  voice  at  last;  "but  this  is  almost  beyond  a 
joke.  A  woman  comes  to  the  rooms  of  a  friend. 
Both  of  them  are  so  placed  that  they  prefer  her 
call  not  to  be  talked  about.  For  that  reason, 

76 


IVOR   DOES    WHAT   HE    CAN    77 

and  for  the  woman's  sake,  the  friend  chooses  to 
take  a  name  that  isn't  his — as  he  has  a  right  to 
do.  Yet,  just  because  that  woman  happens 
unfortunately  to  be  well-known — her  face  and 
name  being  public  property — she  is  followed,  she 
is  spied  upon,  humiliated,  and  all,  no  doubt,  on 
account  of  some  silly  mistake,  or  malicious  false 
information.  Ah,  it  is  shameful,  Monsieur!  I 
wonder  the  police  of  Paris  can  stoop  to  such 
stupidity,  such  meanness." 

'  When  we  have  found  out  that  it  is  a  mistake, 
the  police  of  Paris  will  apologise  to  you,  Made- 
moiselle, through  me,"  said  the  Commissary; 
"  until  then,  I  regret  if  our  duty  makes  us  dis- 
agreeable to  you."  Then,  turning  to  his  two 
gendarmes,  he  directed  them  to  search  the  room, 
beginning  with  all  possible  places  in  which  a 
paper  parcel  or  large  envelope  might  be  hidden, 
within  ten  metres  of  the  spot  where  Mademoi- 
selle and  Monsieur  had  stood  talking  together 
when  the  police  opened  the  door. 

Maxine  did  not  protest  again.  With  her 
head  up,  and  a  look  as  if  the  three  policemen 
were  of  no  more  importance  to  her  than  the  fur- 
niture of  the  room,  she  walked  to  the  mantel- 
piece and  stood  leaning  her  elbow  upon  it. 
Weariness,  disgusted  indifference,  were  in  her 
attitude;  but  I  guessed  that  she  felt  herself 
actually  in  need  of  the  physical  support. 

The  two  gendarmes  moved  about  in  noiseless 
obedience,  their  faces  expressionless  as  masks. 


78    ,THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

They  did  not  glance  at  Maxine,  giving  them- 
selves entirely  to  the  task  at  which  they  had  been 
set.  But  their  superior  officer  did  not  once  take 
his  eyes  from  the  pure  profile  she  turned  scorn- 
fully towards  him.  I  knew  why  he  watched  her 
thus,  and  thought  of  a  foolish,  child's  game  I 
used  to  play  twenty  years  ago,  at  little-boy-and- 
girl  parties :  the  game  of  "  Hide-the-Hand- 
kerchief."  While  one  searched  for  the  treasure, 
those  who  knew  where  it  was  stood  by,  saying: 
"  Now  you  are  warm.  Now  you  are  hot — boil- 
ing hot.  Now  you  are  cool  again.  Now  you  are 
ice  cold.  It  was  as  if  we  were  five  players 
at  this  game,  and  Maxine  de  Renzie's  white, 
deathly  smiling  face  was  expected  to  proclaim 
against  her  will :  "  Now  you  are  warm.  Now 
you  are  hot.  Now  you  are  ice  cold." 

There  was  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
with  one  or  two  volumes  of  photographs  and 
brightly-bound  guide  books  of  Paris  upon  it,  as 
well  as  my  hat  and  gloves  which  I  had  tossed 
down  as  I  came  in.  The  gendarmes  picked  up 
these  things,  examined  them,  laid  them  aside, 
peered  under  the  table;  peeped  behind  the  silk 
cushions  on  the  sofa,  opened  the  doors  and  draw- 
ers of  a  bric-a-brac  cabinet  and  a  small  writing 
desk,  lifted  the  corners  of  the  rugs  on  the  bare, 
polished  floor;  and  finally,  bowing  apologies  to 
Maxine  for  disturbing  her,  took  out  the  logs 
from  the  fireplace  where  the  fire  was  ready  for 
lighting,  and  pried  into  the  vases  on  the  manteL 


IVOR   DOES   WHAT   HE   CAN    79 

Also  they  shook  the  silk  and  lace  window  cur- 
tains, and  moved  the  pictures  on  the  walls. 
When  all  this  had  been  done  in  vain,  the  pair 
confessed  with  shrugs  of  the  shoulders  that  they 
were  at  a  loss. 

During  the  search,  which  had  been  conducted 
in  silence,  I  had  a  curious  sensation,  caused  by 
my  intense  sympathy  with  Maxine's  suffering. 
I  felt  as  if  my  heart  were  the  pendulum  of  a 
clock  which  had  been  jarred  until  it  was  uncer- 
tain whether  to  go  on  or  stop.  Once,  when  the 
gendarmes  were  peering  under  the  sofa,  or  be- 
hind the  sofa  cushions,  a  grey  shadow  round 
Maxine's  eyes  made  her  beautiful  face  look  like 
a  death-mask  in  the  white  electric  light,  which 
did  not  fail  now,  or  spare  her  any  cruelty  of 
revelation.  She  was  smiling  contemptuously 
still — always  the  same  smile — but  her  forehead 
appeared  to  have  been  sprinkled  with  diamond 
dust. 

I  saw  that  dewy  sparkle,  and  wondered,  sick- 
eningly,  if  the  enemy  saw  it  too.  But  I  had  not 
long  to  wait  before  being  satisfied  on  this  point. 
The  keen-eyed  Frenchman  gave  no  further  in- 
structions to  his  baffled  subordinates,  but  cross- 
ing the  room  to  the  sofa  stood  staring  at  it 
fixedly.  Then,  grasping  the  back  with  his 
capable-looking  hand,  instead  of  beginning  at 
once  a  quest  which  his  gendarmes  had  aban- 
doned, he  searched  the  face  of  the  tortured 
woman. 


80     THE  POWERS  AND  MAXINE 

Unflinching  in  courage,  she  seemed  not  to  see 
him.  But  it  was  as  if  she  had  suddenly  ceased 
to  breathe.  Her  bosom  no  longer  rose  and  fell. 
The  only  movement  was  the  visible  knocking  of 
her  heart.  I  felt  that,  in  another  moment,  if  he 
found  what  she  had  hidden,  her  heart  would 
knock  no  longer,  and  she  would  die.  For  a  sec- 
ond I  wildly  counted  the  chances  of  overpow- 
ering all  three  men,  stunning  them  into 
unconsciousness,  and  giving  Maxine  time  to 
escape  with  the  letter-case.  But  I  knew  the  at- 
tempt would  be  useless.  Even  if  I  could  suc- 
ceed, the  noise  would  arouse  the  hotel.  People 
would  come.  Other  policemen  would  rush  in 
to  the  help  of  their  comrades,  and  matters  would 
be  worse  with  us  than  before. 

The  Frenchman,  having  looked  at  Maxine, 
and  seen  that  tell-tale  beating  of  her  bodice, 
deliberately  laid  the  silk  cushions  on  the  floor. 
Then,  pushing  his  hand  down  between  the  seat 
and  the  back  of  the  sofa,  he  moved  it  along  the 
crevice  inch  by  inch. 

I  watched  the  hand,  which  looked  cruel  to 
me  as  that  of  an  executioner.  I  think  Maxine 
watched  it,  too.  Suddenly  it  stopped.  It  had 
found  something.  The  other  hand  sprang  to 
its  assistance.  Both  worked  together,  groping 
and  prying  for  a  few  seconds:  evidently  the 
something  hidden  had  been  forced  deeply  and 
firmly  down.  Then,  up  it  came — a  dark  red 
leather  case,  which  was  neither  a  letter-case  nor 


a  jewel-case,  but  might  be  used  for  either.  My 
heart  almost  stopped  beating  in  the  intense  re- 
lief I  felt.  For  this  was  not  the  thing  I  had 
come  from  London  to  bring  Maxine. 

I  could  hardly  keep  back  a  cry  of  joy.  But 
I  did  keep  it  back,  for  suspense  and  anxiety  had 
left  me  a  few  grains  of  sense. 

*  Voila! "  grunted  the  Commissary  of  Police. 
"  I  said  that  you  were  clever,  Mademoiselle. 
But  it  would  have  been  as  well  for  all  concerned 
if  you  had  spared  us  this  trouble." 

'  You  alone  are  to  blame  for  the  trouble," 
answered  Maxine.  "  I  never  saw  that  thing 
before  in  my  life." 

I  was  astonished  that  there  was  no  ring  of 
satisfaction  in  her  voice.  It  sounded  hard  and 
defiant,  but  there  was  no  triumph  in  it,  no  joy 
that,  so  far,  she  was  saved — as  if  by  a  miracle. 
Rather  was  her  tone  that  of  a  woman  at  bay, 
fighting  to  the  last,  but  without  hope. 

"  Nor  did  I  ever  see  it  before."  I  echoed  her 
words. 

She  glanced  at  me  as  if  with  gratitude.  Yet 
there  was  no  need  for  gratitude.  I  was  not  lying 
for  her  sake,  but  speaking  the  plain  truth,  as 
I  thought  that  she  must  know. 

For  the  first  time  the  Commissary  of  Police 
condescended  to  laugh.  "  I  suppose  you  want 
me  to  believe  that  the  last  occupant  of  this  room 
tucked  some  valued  possession  down  into  a  safe 
hiding  place — and  then  forgot  all  about  it. 


82    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

That  is  likely,  is  it  not?     You  shall  have  the 
pleasure,   Mademoiselle — and  you,  Monsieur— 
of  seeing  with  me  what  that  careless  person  left 
behind  him." 

He  had  laid  the  thing  on  the  table,  and  now 
he  tapped  it,  aggravatingly,  with  his  hand. 
But  the  strain  was  over  for  me.  I  looked  on 
with  calmness,  and  was  amazed  when  at  last 
Maxine  flew  to  him,  no  longer  scornful,  trag- 
ically indiiferent  in  her  manner,  but  imploring 
— a,  weak,  agonized  woman. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  spare  me,  Monsieur," 
she  sobbed.  "  You  don't  understand.  I  con- 
fess that  what  you  have  there,  is  mine.  I  have 
held  myself  high,  in  my  own  eyes,  and  the  eyes 
of  the  world,  because  I — an  actress — never  took 
a  lover.  But  now  I  am  like  the  others.  This 
is  my  lover.  There's  the  price  I  put  on  my  love. 
Now,  Monsieur,  I  ask  you  on  my  womanhood 
to  hold  what  is  in  that  leather  case  sacred." 

I  felt  the  blood  rush  to  my  face  as  if  she  had 
struck  me  across  it  with  a  whip.  My  first 
thought,  to  my  shame,  was  a  selfish  one.  What 
if  this  became  known,  this  thing  that  she  had 
said,  and  Diana  should  hear?  Then  indeed  all 
hope  for  me  with  the  girl  I  loved  would  be  over. 
My  second  thought  was  for  Maxine  herself. 
But  she  had  sealed  my  lips.  Since  she  had  chosen 
the  way,  I  could  only  be  silent. 

"  Mademoiselle,  it  is  a  grief  to  me  that  I  must 
refuse  such  a  prayer,  from  such  a  woman.  But 


IVOR   DOES    WHAT    HE    CAN     83 

duty  before  chivalry.  I  must  see  the  contents 
of  that  case,"  said  the  Commissary  of  Police. 

She  caught  his  hand  and  rained  tears  upon  it. 
"No — no!"  she  implored.  "If  I  were  rich,  I 
would  offer  you  thousands  to  spare  me.  I've 
been  extravagant — I  haven't  saved,  but  all  I 
have  in  the  world  is  yours  if " 

"There  can  be  no  such  'if,'  Mademoiselle," 
the  man  broke  in.  And  wrenching  his  hand  free, 
he  opened  the  case  before  she  could  again 
prevent  him. 

Out  fell  a  cascade  of  light,  a  diamond  neck- 
lace. It  flashed  to  the  floor,  where  it  lay  on  one 
of  the  sofa  cushions,  sending  up  a  spray  of 
rainbow  colours. 

" Sacre  bleu!"  muttered  the  Frenchman,  un- 
der his  breath,  for  whatever  he  had  expected,  he 
had  not  expected  that.  But  Maxine  spoke  not 
a  word.  Shorn  of  hope,  as,  in  spite  of  her 
prayers  and  tears,  the  leather  case  was  torn 
open,  she  was  shorn  of  strength  as  well;  and 
the  beautiful,  tall  figure  crumpling  like  a  flower 
broken  on  its  stalk,  she  would  have  fallen  if  I 
had  not  caught  her,  holding  her  up  against  my 
shoulder.  When  the  cataract  of  diamonds 
sprang  out  of  the  case,  however,  I  felt  her  limp 
body  straighten  itself.  I  felt  her  pulses  leap. 
I  felt  her  begin  to  live  once  more.  She  had 
drunk  a  draught  of  hope  and  life,  and,  fortified 
by  it,  was  gathering  all  her  scattered  forces 
together  for  a  new  fight,  if  fight  she  must  again. 


84    THE   POWERS   AND   MAXINE 

The  Commissary  of  Police  turned  the  leather 
case  wrong  side  out.  It  was  empty.  There  had 
been  nothing  inside  but  the  necklace :  not  a  card, 
not  a  scrap  of  paper. 

"  Where,  then,  is  the  document?  "  Crestfallen, 
he  put  the  question  half  to  himself,  half  to 
Maxine  de  Renzie. 

"  What  document? "  she  asked,  too  wise  to 
betray  relief  in  voice  or  face.  Hearing  the 
heavy  tone,  seeing  the  shamed  face,  the  hanging 
head  that  lay  against  my  shoulder,  who — know- 
ing a  little  less  than  I  did  of  the  truth — would 
have  dreamed  that  in  her  soul  she  thanked  God 
for  a  miracle?  Even  I  would  not  have  been 
sure,  had  I  not  felt  the  life  stealing  back  into 
her  half-dead  body. 

"  The  contents  of  the  case  are  not  what  I 
came  here  to  find,"  admitted  the  Enemy. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  came  to  find,  but 
you  have  made  me  suffer  horribly,"  said  Max- 
ine. *  You  have  been  very  cruel  to  a  woman 
who  has  done  nothing  to  deserve  such  humilia- 
tion. All  pleasure  I  might  have  taken  in  my 
diamonds  is  gone  now.  I  shall  never  have  a 
peaceful  moment — never  be  able  to  wear  them 
joyfully.  I  shall  have  the  thought  in  my  mind 
that  people  who  look  at  me  will  be  saying: 
*  Every  woman  has  her  price.  There  is  the  price 
of  Maxine  de  Renzie.' ' 

'  You  need  have  no  such  thought,  Made- 
moiselle," the  man  protested.  "We  shall 


IVOR   DOES    WHAT    HE    CAN     85 

never  speak  to  anyone  except  those  who  will 
receive  our  report,  of  what  we  have  heard  and 
seen  in  this  room." 

"  Won't  you  search  further? "  asked  Maxine. 
"  Since  you  seemed  to  expect  something 
else " 

"  You  would  not  have  had  time  to  conceal 
more  than  one  thing,  Mademoiselle,"  said  the 
policeman,  with  a  smile  that  was  faintly  grim. 
"  Besides,  this  case  was  what  you  did  not  wish 
us  to  find.  You  are  a  great  actress,  but  you 
could  not  control  the  dew  which  sprang  out  on 
your  forehead,  or  the  beating  of  your  heart 
when  I  touched  the  sofa,  so  I  knew:  I  had  been 
watching  you  for  that.  There  has  been  an 
error,  and  I  can  only  apologise." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,  but  those  who  sent  you," 
said  Maxine,  letting  me  lead  her  to  a  chair,  into 
which  she  sank,  limply.  "  I  am  thankful  you 
do  not  tell  me  these  diamonds  are  contraband  in 
some  way.  I  was  not  sure  but  it  would  end  in 
that." 

"  Not  at  all,  Mademoiselle.  I  wish  you  joy 
of  them.  It  is  you  who  will  adorn  the  jewels, 
not  they  you.  Again  I  apologise  for  myself 
and  my  companions.  We  have  but  done  our 
duty." 

"  I  have  an  enemy,  who  must  have  contrived 
this  plot  against  me,"  exclaimed  Maxine,  as  if 
on  a  sudden  thought.  "It  is  said  that  *  Hell 
hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned.'  But  what 


of  a  man  who  has  been  scorned — by  a  woman? 
He  knew  I  wanted  all  my  strength  for  to-night 
— the  night  of  the  new  play — and  he  will  be 
hoping  that  this  has  broken  me.  But  I  will  not 
be  broken.  If  you  would  atone,  Messieurs,  for 
your  part  in  this  scene,  you  will  go  to  the  theatre 
this  evening  and  encourage  me  by  your 
applause." 

All  three  bowed.  The  Commissary  of  Police, 
lately  so  relentless,  murmured  compliments.  It 
was  all  very  French,  and  after  what  had  passed, 
gave  me  the  sensation  that  I  was  in  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IVOR   HEARS   THE   STORY 

THEY  were  gone.  They  had  closed  the  door 
behind  them.  I  looked  at  Maxine,  but  she  did 
not  speak.  With  her  finger  to  her  lips  she  got 
up,  trembling  still;  and  walking  to  the  door,  she 
opened  it  suddenly  to  look  out.  Nobody  was 
there. 

"  They  may  have  gone  into  your  bedroom  to 
listen  at  that  door,"  she  whispered. 

I  took  the  hint,  and  going  quickly  into  the 
room  adjoining,  turned  on  the  light.  Empti- 
ness there:  but  I  left  the  door  open,  and  the 
electricity  switched  on.  They  might  change  their 
minds,  or  be  more  subtle  than  they  wished  to 
seem. 

Maxine  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  gathering 
up  the  necklace  from  the  cushion  where  it  had 
fallen,  and  lifting  it  in  both  hands  pressed  the 
glittering  mass  against  her  lips  and  cheeks. 

:t  Thank  God,  thank  God — and  thank  you, 
Ivor,  best  of  friends!"  she  said  brokenly,  in  so 
low  a  voice  that  no  ear  could  have  caught  her 
words,  even  if  pressed  against  the  keyhole. 
Then,  letting  the  diamonds  drop  into  her  lap, 

87 


88    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

she  flung  back  her  head  and  laughed  and  cried 
together. 

"  Oh,  Ivor,  Ivor! "  she  panted,  between  her 
sobs  and  hysterical  gusts  of  laughter.  "  The 
agony  of  it — the  agony — and  the  joy  now! 
You're  wonderful.  Good,  precious  Ivor — dear 
friend — saint." 

At  this  I  laughed  too,  partly  to  calm  her,  and 
patted  gently  the  hands  with  which  she  had 
nervously  clutched  my  sleeve. 

"  Heaven  knows  I  don't  deserve  one  of  those 
epithets,"  I  said,  "  I'll  just  stick  to  friend." 

"  Not  deserve  them?"  she  repeated.  "  Not  de- 
serve them,  when  you've  saved  me — I  don't  yet 
understand  how — from  a  horror  worse  than 
death — oh,  but  a  thousand  times  worse,  for  I 
wanted  to  die.  I  meant  to  die.  If  they  had 
found  it,  I  shouldn't  have  lived  to  see  to-mor- 
row morning.  Tell  me — how  did  you  work  such 
a  miracle?  How  did  you  get  this  necklace,  that 
meant  so  much  to  me  (and  to  one  I  love),  and 
how  did  you  hide  the — other  thing? " 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  this  necklace," 
I  answered,  stupidly,  "  I  didn't  bring  it." 

'  You— didn't  bring  it?  " 

"No.  At  least,  that  red  leather  thing  isn't 
the  case  I  carried.  When  the  fellow  pulled  it 
out  from  the  sofa,  I  saw  it  wasn't  what  I'd  had, 
so  I  thanked  our  lucky  stars,  and  wrould  hare 
tried  to  let  you  know  that  all  hope  wasn't  over, 
if  I'd  dared  to  catch  your  eye  or  make  a  signal." 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        89 

Maxine  was  suddenly  calm.  The  tears  had 
dried  on  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  were  fever- 
bright. 

"  Ivor,  you  can't  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,"  she  said,  in  a  changed  voice.  "  That  red 
leather  case  is  what  you  took  out  of  your  breast 
pocket  and  handed  to  me  when  I  first  came  into 
the  room.  At  the  sound  of  the  knock,  I  pushed 
it  down  as  far  as  I  could  between  the  seat  and 
back  of  the  sofa,  and  then  ran  off  to  a  distance 
before  the  door  opened.  You  did  bring  the 
necklace,  knowingly  or  not;  and  as  it  was  the 
cause  of  all  my  trouble  in  the  beginning,  I 
needn't  tell  you  of  the  joy  I  had  in  seeing  it, 
apart  from  the  heavenly  relief  of  being  spared 
discovery  of  the  thing  I  feared.  Now,  when 
you've  given  me  the  other  packet,  which  you  hid 
so  marvellously,  I  can  go  away  happy." 

I  stared  at  her,  feeling  more  than  ever  like 
one  in  a  dream. 

"  I  gave  you  the  only  thing  I  brought,"  I 
said.  "  It  was  in  my  breast  pocket,  inside  my 
coat.  I  took  it  out,  and  put  it  in  your  hands. 
There  was  no  other  thing.  Look  again  in  the 
sofa.  It  must  be  there  still.  This  red  case  is 
something  else — we  can  try  to  account  for  it 
later.  It  all  came  through  the  lights  not  work- 
ing. If  it  hadn't  been  dusk  you  would  hare 
seen  that  I  gave  you  a  dark  green  leather  letter- 
case — quite  different  from  this,  though  of  about 
the  same  length — rather  less  thick,  and " 


90    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

Frantically  she  began  ransacking  the  crevice 
between  the  seat  and  back  of  the  sofa,  but  noth- 
ing was  there.  We  might  have  known  there 
could  be  nothing,  or  the  Commissary  of  Police 
would  have  been  before  us.  With  a  cry  she  cut 
me  short  at  last,  throwing  up  her  hands  in  de- 
spair. She  was  deathly  pale  again,  and  all  the 
light  had  gone  out  of  her  eyes,  leaving  them 
dull,  as  if  she  had  been  sick  with  some  long 
illness. 

"What  will  become  of  me?"  she  stammered. 
"  The  treaty  lost!  My  God— what  shall  I  do? 
Ivor,  you  are  killing  me.  Do  you  know — you 
are  killing  me? " 

The  word  "treaty"  was  new  to  me  in  this 
connection,  for  the  Foreign  Secretary  had  not 
thought  it  necessary  that  his  messenger  should 
be  wholly  in  his  secrets — and  Maxine's.  Yet 
hearing  the  word  brought  no  great  surprise.  I 
knew  that  I  had  been  cat's-paw  in  some  game  of 
high  stakes.  But  it  was  of  Maxine  I  thought 
now,  and  the  importance  of  the  loss  to  her,  not 
the  national  disaster  which  it  might  well  be 
also. 

"  Wait,"  I  said,  "  don't  despair  yet.  There's 
some  mistake.  Perhaps  we  shall  be  able  to  see 
light,  when  we've  thrashed  this  out  and  talked 
it  over.  I  know  I  had  a  green  letter-case.  It 
never  left  my  pocket.  I  thought  of  it  and 
guarded  it  every  moment.  Could  those  dia- 
monds have  been  inside  it?  Could  the  Foreign 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        91 

Secretary  had  given  me  the  necklace,  instead  of 
what  you  expected?" 

"  No,  no,"  she  answered  with  desperate  im- 
patience. "  He  knew  that  the  only  thing  which 
could  save  me  was  the  document  I'd  sent  him. 
I  wired  that  I  must  have  it  back  again  imme- 
diately, for  my  own  sake — for  his — for  the  sake 
of  England.  Ivor!  Think  again.  Do  you 
want  me  to  go  mad?  " 

"  I  will  think,"  I  said,  trying  to  speak  reas- 
suringly. "  Give  me  a  moment — a  quiet 
moment " 

"A  quiet  moment,"  she  repeated,  bitterly, 
"when  for  me  each  second  is  an  hour!  It's 
late,  and  this  is  the  night  of  my  new  play.  Soon, 
I  must  be  at  the  theatre,  for  the  make-up  and 
dressing  of  this  part  for  the  first  act  are  a  heavy 
business.  I  don't  want  all  Paris  to  know  that 
Maxine  de  Renzie  has  been  ruined  by  her  ene- 
mies. Let  us  keep  the  secret  while  we  can,  for 
others'  sakes,  and  so  gain  time  for  our  own,  if 
all's  not  lost — if  you  believe  still  that  there's 
any  hope.  Oh,  save  me,  Ivor — somehow.  My 
whole  life  is  in  this." 

"  Let  your  understudy  take  your  part  to- 
night, while  we  think,  and  work,"  I  suggested. 
*  You  cannot  go  to  the  theatre  in  this  state." 

"  For  an  actress  there's  no  such  word  as  '  can- 
not,' "  she  said  bitterly.  "  I  could  play  a  part 
to  the  finish,  and  crawl  off  the  stage  to  die  the 
next  instant ;  yet  no  one  would  have  guessed  that 


92     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

I  was  dying.  I  have  no  understudy.  What  use 
to  have  one?  What  audience  would  stop  in  the 
theatre  after  an  announcement  that  their  Max- 
ine's  understudy  would  take  her  place?  Every 
man  and  woman  would  walk  out  and  get  his 
money  back.  No;  for  the  sake  of  the  man  I 
love  better  than  my  life,  or  twenty  lives — the 
man  I've  either  saved  or  ruined — I'll  play  to- 
night, if  I  go  mad  or  kill  myself  to-morrow. 
Don't  'think  quietly,'  Ivor.  Think  out  aloud, 
and  let  me  follow  the  workings  of  your  mind. 
We  may  help  each  other,  so.  Let  us  go  over 
together  everything  that  happened  to  you  from 
the  minute  you  took  the  letter-case  from  the 
Foreign  Secretary  up  to  the  minute  I  came  into 
this  room." 

I  obeyed,  beginning  at  the  very  beginning 
and  telling  her  all,  except  the  part  that  had  to 
do  with  Diana  Forrest.  She  had  no  concern  in 
that.  I  told  her  how  I  had  slept  with  the  green 
letter-case  under  my  pillow,  and  had  waked  to 
feel  and  look  for  it  once  or  twice  an  hour.  How 
when  morning  came  I  had  been  late  in  getting 
to  the  train:  how  I  had  struggled  with  the  two 
men  who  tried  to  keep  me  out  of  the  reserved 
compartment  into  which  they  were  intruding. 
How  the  man  who  had  a  right  to  it,  after  wish- 
ing to  prevent  my  entering,  helped  me  in  the 
end,  rather  than  be  alone  with  the  pair  who  had 
forced  themselves  upon  him.  How  he  had 
stumbled  almost  into  my  arms  in  a  panic,  during 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        93 

the  confusion  after  the  false  alarm  on  the  boat's 
gangway.  How  he  had  walked  beside  me  and 
seemed  on  the  point  of  speaking,  later,  in  the 
Gare  du  Nord.  How  I  had  avoided  and  lost 
sight  of  him ;  but  how  I  had  many  times  covertly 
touched  my  pocket  to  be  sure  that,  through  all, 
the  letter-case  was  still  safe  there. 

Maxine  grew  calmer,  though  not,  I  think, 
more  hopeful  as  I  talked;  and  at  last  she  folded 
up  the  diamonds  neatly  in  the  red  case,  which 
she  gave  to  me.  "  Put  that  into  the  same 
pocket,"  she  said,  "  and  then  pass  your  hand 
over  your  coat,  as  you  did  often  before.  Now, 
does  it  feel  exactly  as  if  it  were  the  green  letter- 
case  with  which  you  started  out? " 

'Yes,  I  think  it  does,"  I  answered,  doubt- 
fully. :<  I'm  afraid  I  shouldn't  know  the  differ- 
ence. This  may  be  a  little  thicker  than  the 
other,  but — I  can't  be  sure.  And,  you  see,  I 
never  once  had  a  chance  to  unbutton  my  coat 
and  look  at  the  thing  I  had  in  this  inner  pocket. 
It  would  have  attracted  too  much  attention  to 
risk  that;  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  es- 
pecially warned  not  to  do  it.  I  could  trust  only 
to  the  touch.  But  even  granting  that,  by  a  skill 
almost  clever  enough  for  sleight  of  hand — a  skill 
which  only  the  smartest  pickpocket  in  Europe 
could  possess — why  should  a  thief  who  had 
stolen  my  letter-case  give  me  instead  a  string  of 
diamonds  worth  many  thousands  of  pounds? 
If  he  wanted  to  put  something  into  my  pocket 


94    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

of  much  the  same  size  and  shape  as  the  thing  he 
stole,  so  that  I  shouldn't  suspect  my  loss,  why 
didn't  he  slip  in  the  red  case  empty  f  instead  of 
containing  the  necklace?" 

"This  necklace,  too,  of  all  things  in  the 
world! "  murmured  Maxine,  lost  in  the  mystery. 
"  It's  like  a  dream.  Yet  here — by  some  miracle 
— it  is,  in  our  hands.  And  the  treaty  is  gone." 

'  The  treaty  is  gone,"  I  repeated,  miserably. 

It  was  Maxine  herself  who  had  spoken  the 
words  which  I  merely  echoed,  yet  it  almost  killed 
her  to  hear  them  from  me.  No  doubt  it  gave  the 
dreadful  fact  a  kind  of  inevitability.  She  flung 
herself  down  on  the  sofa  with  a  groan,  her  face 
buried  in  her  hands. 

"My  God,  what  a  punishment!"  she  stam- 
mered. "I've  ruined  the  man  I  risked  every- 
thing to  save.  I  will  go  to  the  theatre,  and  I 
will  act  to-night,  my  friend,  but  unless  you  can 
give  me  back  what  is  lost,  when  to-morrow 
morning  comes,  I  shall  be  out  of  the  world." 

"Don't  say  that,"  I  implored,  sick  with  pity 
for  her  and  shame  at  my  failure.  "  All  hope 
isn't  over  yet;  it  can't  be.  I'll  think  this  out. 
There  must  be  a  solution.  There  must  be  a  way 
of  laying  hold  of  what  seems  to  be  gone.  If  by 
giving  my  life  I  could  get  it,  I  assure  you  I 
wouldn't  hesitate  for  an  instant,  now:  so  you 
see,  there's  nothing  I  won't  do  to  help  you. 
Only,  I  wish  the  path  could  be  made  a  little 
plainer  for  me — unless  for  some  reason  it's  nee- 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        95 

essary  for  you  to  keep  me  in  the  dark.  The 
word  'treaty'  I  heard  for  the  first  time  from 
you.  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  bringing  you, 
except  that  it  was  a  document  of  international 
importance,  and  that  you'd  been  helping  the 
British  Foreign  Secretary — perhaps  Great 
Britain  as  a  Power — in  some  ticklish  manoeuvre 
of  high  politics.  He  said  that,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned,  you  might  tell  me  more  if  you  liked. 
He  left  it  to  you.  That  was  his  message." 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  more!'*  Maxine  ex- 
claimed. "  It  will  be  better  to  do  so.  I  know  that 
it  will  make  it  easier  for  you  to  help  me.  The 
document  you  were  bringing  me  was  a  treaty — 
a  quite  new  treaty  between  Japan,  Russia  and 
France:  not  a  copy,  but  the  original.  England 
had  been  warned  that  there  was  a  secret  under- 
standing between  the  three  countries,  unknown 
to  her.  There  was  no  time  to  make  a  copy.  And 
I  stole  the  real  treaty  from  Raoul  du  Laurier, 
to  whom  I  am  engaged — whom  I  adore,  Ivor, 
as  I  didn't  know  it  was  in  me  to  adore  any  man. 
You  know  his  name,  perhaps — that  he's  Under 
Secretary  in  the  Foreign  Office,  here  in  Paris. 
Oh,  I  can  read  in  your  eyes  what  you're  think- 
ing of  me,  now.  You  can't  think  worse  of  me 
than  I  think  of  myself.  Yet  I  did  the  thing  for 
Raoul's  sake.  .There's  that  in  my  defence — only 
that." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  I  said,  trying  not  to 
show  the  horror  of  Maxine's  treachery  to  a  man 


96    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

who  loved  and  trusted  her,  which  I  could  not 
help  feeling. 

"How  could  you? — except  that  I've  betrayed 
him!  But  I'll  tell  you  everything — I'll  go  back 
a  long  way.  Then  you'll  pity  me,  even  if  you 
scorn  me,  too.  You'll  work  for  me — to  save 
me,  and  him.  For  years  I've  helped  the  British 
Government.  Oh,  I  won't  spare  myself.  I've 
been  a  spy,  sometimes  against  one  Power,  some- 
times against  another.  When  there  was  any- 
thing to  do  against  Russia,  I  was  always  glad, 
because  my  dear  father  was  a  Pole,  and  you 
know  how  Poles  feel  towards  Russia.  Russia 
ruined  his  life,  and  stripped  it  of  everything 
worth  having,  not  only  money,  but — oh,  well, 
that's  not  in  this  story  of  mine!  I  won't  trouble 
you  or  waste  time  in  the  telling.  Only,  when  I 
was  a  very  young  girl,  I  was  already  the  enemy 
of  all  that's  Russian,  with  a  big  debt  of  revenge 
to  pay.  And  I've  been  paying  it,  slowly.  Don't 
think  that  the  money  I've  had  for  my  work — 
hateful  work  often — has  been  used  for  myself. 
It's  been  for  my  father's  country — poor,  sad 
country — every  shilling  of  English  coin.  As  an 
actress  I've  supported  myself,  and,  as  an  actress, 
it  has  been  easier  for  me  to  do  the  other  secret 
work  than  it  would  have  been  for  a  woman  lead- 
ing a  more  sheltered  life,  mingling  less  with  dis- 
tinguished persons  of  different  countries,  or 
unable  to  be  eccentric  without  causing  scandal. 
As  for  France,  she's  the  friend  of  Russia,  and  I 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        97 

haven't  a  drop  of  French  blood  in  my  veins,  so, 
at  least,  I've  never  been  treacherous  to  my  own 
people.  Oh,  I  have  made  some  great  coups  in 
the  last  eight  or  nine  years,  Ivor!  .  .  .  for  I 
began  before  I  was  sixteen,  and  now  I'm  twenty- 
six.  Once  or  twice  England  has  had  to  thank 
me  for  giving  her  news  of  the  most  vital  im- 
portance. You're  shocked  to  hear  what  my; 
inner  life  has  been?" 

"  If  I  were  shocked,  no  doubt  the  feeling 
would  be  more  than  half  conventional.  One 
hardly  knows  how  conventional  one's  opinions 
are  until  one  stops  to  think,"  said  I. 

"  Once,  I  gloried  in  the  work,"  Maxine  went 
on.  ;<  But  that  was  before  I  fell  in  love.  You 
and  I  have  played  a  little  at  being  in  love,  but 
that  was  to  pass  the  time.  Both  of  us  were  flirt- 
ing. I'd  never  met  Raoul  then,  and  I've  never 
really  loved  any  man  except  him.  It  came  at 
first  sight,  for  me:  and  when  he  told  me  that  he 
cared,  he  said  it  had  begun  when  he  first  saw  me 
on  the  stage ;  so  you  see  it  is  as  if  we  were  meant 
for  each  other.  From  the  moment  I  gave  him 
my  promise,  I  promised  myself  that  the  old  work 
should  be  given  up  for  ever:  Raoul's  fiancee f 
Raoul's  wife,  should  not  be  the  tool  of  diplo- 
matists. Besides,  as  he's  a  Frenchman,  his  wife 
would  owe  loyalty  to  France,  which  Maxine  de 
Renzie  never  owed.  I  wanted — oh,  how  much  I 
wanted — to  be  only  what  Raoul  believed  me, 
just  a  simple,  true-hearted  woman,  with  nothing 


98    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

to  hide.  It  made  me  sick  to  think  that  there  was 
one  thing  I  must  always  conceal  from  him,  but 
I  did  the  best  I  could.  I  vowed  to  myself  that 
I'd  break  with  the  past,  and  I  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  British  Foreign  Secretarj^,  who  has  always 
been  a  good  friend  of  mine.  I  said  I  was  en- 
gaged, and  hoped  to  begin  my  life  all  over  again 
in  a  different  way,  though  he  might  be  sure  that 
I'd  know  how  to  keep  his  secrets  as  well  as  my 
own.  Oh,  Ivor,  to  think  that  was  hardly  more 
than  a  week  ago!  I  was  happy  then.  I  feel 
twenty  years  older  now." 

"A  week  ago.  You've  been  engaged  only  a 
week?"  I  broke  in. 

"  Not  many  days  more.  I  guessed,  I  hoped, 
long  ago  that  Raoul  cared,  but  he  wouldn't  have 
told  me,  even  the  day  he  did  tell,  if  he  hadn't 
lost  his  head  a  little.  He  hadn't  meant  to  speak, 
it  seems,  for  he's  poor,  and  he  thought  he  had 
no  right.  But  what's  a  man  worth  who  doesn't 
lose  his  head  when  he  loves  a  woman?  I  adored 
him  for  it.  We  decided  not  to  let  anyone  know 
until  a  few  weeks  before  we  could  marry,  as  I 
didn't  care  to  have  my  engagement  gossipped 
about,  for  months  on  end.  There  were  reasons 
why — more  than  one:  but  the  man  of  all  others 
whom  I  didn't  want  to  know  the  truth  found 
out,  or,  rather,  suspected  what  had  happened, 
the  very  day  when  Raoul  and  I  came  to  an  un- 
derstanding— Count  Godensky  of  the  Russian 
Embassy.  He  called,  and  was  let  in  by  mistake 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY        99 

while  Raoul  was  with  me,  and,  just  as  he  must 
have  seen  by  our  faces  that  there  was  something 
to  suspect,  so  I  saw  by  his  that  he  did  suspect. 
Oh,  a  hateful  person!  I've  refused  him  three 
times.  There  are  some  men  so  vain  that  they  can 
never  believe  a  woman  really  means  to  say  *  no ' 
to  them.  Count  Godensky  is  one  of  those,  and 
he's  dangerous,  too.  I'm  afraid  of  him,  since 
I've  cared  for  Raoul,  though  I  used  to  be  afraid 
of  no  one,  when  I'd  only  myself  to  think  of. 
Raoul  was  going  away  that  very  night.  He  had 
an  errand  to  do  for  a  woman  who  was  a  dear 
and  intimate  friend  of  his  dead  mother.  You 
must  know  of  the  Duchesse  de  Montpellier? 
Well,  it  was  for  her:  and  Raoul  is  like  her  son. 
She  has  no  children  of  her  own." 

"  I  don't  know  her,"  I  said,  "  but  I've  seen 
her;  a  charming  looking  woman,  about  forty- 
five,  with  a  gloomy-faced  husband — a  fellow 
who  might  be  rather  a  Tartar  to  live  with.  They 
were  pointed  out  to  me  at  Monte  Carlo  one 
year,  in  the  Casino,  where  the  Duchess  seemed 
to  be  enjoying  herself  hugely,  though  the  Duke 
had  the  air  of  being  dragged  in  against  his 
will." 

"  No  doubt  he  had  been — or  else  he  was  there 
to  fetch  her  out.  Poor  dear,  she's  a  dreadful 
gambler.  It's  in  her  blood!  She  lost,  I  don't 
know  how  much,  at  Monte  Carlo  on  an  '  in- 
fallible system '  she  had.  She's  afraid  of  her 
husband,  though  she  loves  him  immensely;  and 


100    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

lately  a  craze  she's  had  for  Bridge  has  cost  her 
so  much  that  she  daren't  tell  the  Duke,  who 
hates  her  gambling.  She  confessed  to  Raoul, 
and  begged  him  to  help  her — not  with  money, 
for  he  has  none,  but  by  taking  a  famous  and 
wonderful  diamond  necklace  of  hers  to  Am- 
sterdam, selling  the  stones  for  her  there,  and 
having  them  replaced  with  paste.  It  was  all  to 
be  done  very  secretly,  of  course,  so  that  the  Duke 
shouldn't  know,  and  Raoul  hated  it,  but  he 
couldn't  refuse.  He  had  no  idea  of  telling  me 
this  story,  that  day  when  he  '  lost  his  head,'  while 
we  were  bidding  each  other  good-bye  before  his 
journey.  He  didn't  mention  the  name  of  the 
Duchess,  but  said  only  that  he  had  leave,  and 
was  going  to  Holland  on  business.  But  while 
he  was  away  a  dreadful  thing  happened — the 
most  ghastly  misfortune — and  as  we  were  en- 
gaged to  be  married,  he  felt  obliged  when  he 
came  back  to  let  me  know  the  worst." 

"What  was  the  dreadful  thing  that  hap- 
pened?" I  asked,  as  she  paused,  pressing  her 
hands  against  her  temples. 

'  The  necklace  was  stolen  from  Raoul  by  a 
thief,  who  must  have  been  one  of  the  most  ex- 
pert in  the  world.  Can  you  imagine  Raoul's 
feelings?  He  came  to  me  in  despair,  asking  my 
advice.  What  was  he  to  do?  He  dared  not  ap- 
peal to  the  police,  or  the  Duchess's  secret  would 
come  out.  And  he  couldn't  bear  to  tell  her  of 
the  loss,  not  only  because  it  would  be  such  a  blow 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      101 

to  her,  as  she  was  depending  on  the  money  from 
the  sale  of  the  jewels,  but  because  she  knew  that 
he  was  in  some  difficulties,  and  might  be  tempted 
to  believe  that  he'd  only  pretended  the  diamonds 
were  stolen — while  really  he'd  sold  them  for  his 
own  use." 

"  As  she's  fond  of  him,  and  trusts  him,  prob- 
ably she  would  have  thought  no  such  thing,"  I 
tried  to  comfort  Maxine.  "  But  certainly,  it 
was  a  rather  bad  fix." 

"  Rather  bad  fix !  Oh,  you  laconic  creatures, 
Englishmen.  All  you  think  of  is  to  hide  your 
feelings  behind  icy  words.  As  for  me — well, 
there  was  nothing  I  wouldn't  have  done  to  help 
him — nothing.  My  life  would  have  been  a  small 
thing  to  give.  I  would  have  given  my  soul. 
And  already  a  thought  came  flashing  into  my 
mind.  I  begged  Raoul  to  wait,  and  say  nothing 
to  the  Duchess,  who  didn't  even  know  yet  that 
he'd  come  back  from  Amsterdam.  The  thought 
in  my  mind  was  about  the  commission  from  your 
Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs.  As  I  told  you, 
I'd  just  sent  him  word  in  the  usual  cypher  and 
through  the  usual  channels,  that  I  couldn't  do 
what  he  wanted.  He'd  offered  me  eight  thou- 
sand pounds  to  undertake  the  service,  and  four 
more  if  I  succeeded.  I  believed  I  could  succeed 
if  I  tried.  And  with  the  few  thousands  I'd 
saved  up,  and  selling  such  jewels  as  I  had,  I 
could  make  up  the  sum  Raoul  had  been  told  to 
ask  for  the  necklace.  Then  he  could  give  it  to 


102     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

the  Duchess,  and  she  need  never  know  that  the 
diamonds  had  been  stolen.  All  that  night  I  lay 
awake  thinking,  thinking.  Next  day,  at  a  time 
when  I  knew  Raoul  would  be  working  in  his 
office,  I  went  to  see  him  there,  and  cheered  him 
up  as  well  as  I  could.  I  told  him  that  in  a  few 
days  I  hoped  to  have  eighteen  or  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds  in  my  hands — all  for  him.  To  let 
him  have  the  money  would  make  me  happier 
than  I'd  ever  been.  At  first  he  said  he  wouldn't 
take  it  from  me — I  knew  he  would  say  that! 
But,  at  last,  after  I'd  cried  and  begged,  and 
persuaded,  he  consented ;  only  it  was  to  be  a  loan, 
and  some  how,  some  time,  he  would  pay  me  back. 
In  that  office  there  are  several  great  safes;  and 
when  we  had  grown  quite  happy  and  gay  to- 
gether, I  made  Raoul  tell  me  which  was  the  most 
important  of  all — where  the  really  sacred 
and  valuable  things  were  kept.  He  laughed 
and  pointed  out  the  most  interesting  one — the 
one,  he  said,  which  held  all  the  deepest  secrets 
of  French  foreign  diplomacy.  I  ,was  sure  then 
that  the  thing  I  had  to  get  for  the  British 
Foreign  Secretary  must  be  there,  though  it  was 
euch  a  new  thing  that  it  couldn't  have  been  any- 
where for  long.  *  There  are  three  keys  to  that 
safe/  said  Raoul.  *  One  is  kept  by  the  Presi- 
dent; one  is  always  with  the  Foreign  Secretary; 
this  is  the  third ' ;  and  he  showed  me  a  strange 
little  key  different  to  any  I  had  seen  before. 
*  Oh,  do  let  me  have  a  peep  at  these  wonderful 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      103 

papers,'  I  pleaded  with  him.  Before  coming  I 
had  planned  what  to  do.  Round  my  throat  I 
wore  a  string  of  imitation  pearls,  which  I'd  put 
on  for  a  special  purpose.  But  they  were  pretty, 
and  so  well  made  that  only  an  expert  would  know 
they  weren't  real.  Raoul  isn't  an  expert;  so  at 
the  moment  he  fitted  the  key  into  the  lock  of  the 
safe  to  open  the  door,  I  gave  a  sly  little  pull,  and 
broke  the  thread,  making  the  pearls  roll  every- 
where about  the  floor.  He  was  quite  distressed, 
forgot  all  about  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  flew  to 
pick  up  the  pearls  as  if  each  one  were  worth  at 
least  a  thousand  francs. 

;<  While  he  was  busy  finding  the  lost  beads,  I 
whipped  out  the  key,  took  an  impression  of  it 
on  a  piece  of  wax  I  had  ready,  concealed  in  my 
handkerchief,  and  slipped  it  back  into  the  lock 
while  he  was  still  on  his  hands  and  knees  on  the 
floor.  Then  he  opened  the  safe-door  for  a 
moment,  just  to  give  me  the  peep  I  had  begged 
for,  but  not  long  enough  for  me  to  touch  any- 
thing even  if  I'd  dared  to  try  with  him  standing 
there.  Enough,  though,  to  show  me  that  the 
documents  were  neatly  arranged  in  labelled 
pigeon-holes,  and  to  see  their  general  character, 
colour,  and  shape.  That  same  day  a  key  to  fit 
the  lock  was  being  made ;  and  when  it  was  ready, 
I  made  an  excuse  to  call  again  on  Raoul  at  the 
office.  Not  that  a  very  elaborate  excuse  was 
needed.  The  poor  fellow,  trusting  me  as  he 
trusts  himself,  or  more,  was  only  too  glad  to 


104    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

have  me  come  to  him,  even  in  that  sacred  place. 
Now,  the  thing  was  to  get  him  away.  But  I'd 
made  up  my  mind  what  to  do.  In  another  office, 
upstairs,  was  a  friend  of  Raoul's — the  one  who 
introduced  us  to  each  other,  and  I'd  made  up 
a  message  for  him,  which  I  begged  Raoul  to 
take,  and  bring  his  friend  to  speak  to  me.  He 
went,  and  I  believed  I  might  count  on  five  min- 
utes to  myself.  No  more — but  those  five 
minutes  would  have  to  be  enough  for  success  or 
failure.  The  instant  the  door  shut  behind 
Raoul,  I  was  at  the  safe.  The  key  fitted.  I 
snatched  out  a  folded  document,  and  opened  it 
to  make  quite,  quite  certain  it  was  the  right  one, 
for  a  mistake  would  be  inexcusable  and  spoil 
everything.  It  was  what  I  wanted — the  treaty, 
newly  made,  between  Japan,  Russia  and  France 
— the  treaty  which  your  Foreign  Secretary 
thought  he  had  reason  to  believe  was  a  secret 
one,  arranged  between  the  three  countries  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  England  and  to  the  preju- 
dice of  her  interests.  The  one  glance  I  had  gave 
me  the  impression  that  the  document  was  noth- 
ing of  the  kind,  but  quite  innocent,  affecting 
trade  only;  yet  that  wasn't  my  business.  I  had 
to  send  it  to  the  Foreign  Secretary,  who  wranted 
to  know  its  precise  nature,  and  whether  Eng- 
land was  being  deceived.  In  place  of  the  treaty 
I  slipped  into  its  pigeon-hole  a  document  I'd 
brought  with  me — just  like  the  real  thing.  No 
one  opening  the  safe  on  other  business  would 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      105 

suspect  the  change  that  had  been  made.  My 
hope  was  to  get  the  treaty  back  before  it  should 
be  missed.  You  see,  I  was  betraying  Raoul,  to 
save  him.  Do  you  understand? " 

"  I  understand.  You  must  have  persuaded 
yourself  that  you  were  justified.  But,  good 
Heavens,  Maxine,"  I  couldn't  help  breaking  out, 
"  it  was  an  awful  thing  to  do." 

"  I  know — I  know.  But  I  had  to  have  the 
money — for  Raoul.  And  there  was  no  other 
way  to  get  it.  You  remember,  I'd  refused,  till 
the  diamonds  were  lost,  and  would  have  refused 
even  if  Raoul  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  French 
Foreign  Office.  But  let  me  go  on  telling  you 
what  happened.  I  had  time  enough.  I  had 
even  a  minute  or  two  to  spare.  And  fortunately 
for  me,  the  man  I'd  sent  Raoul  to  find  was  out. 
I  looked  at  my  watch,  pretended  to  be  surprised, 
and  said  I  must  go  at  once.  I  couldn't  bear  to 
waste  a  second  in  hurrying  the  treaty  off,  so  that 
it  might  the  more  quickly  be  on  its  way  back. 
I  hadn't  come  to  visit  Roaul  in  my  own  carriage, 
but  in  a  cab,  which  was  waiting.  As  Raoul 
was  taking  me  to  it,  Count  Godensky  got  out  of 
a  motor-brougham,  and  saw  me.  If  only  it  had 
been  anywhere  except  in  front  of  the  Foreign 
Office!  I  told  myself  there  was  no  reason  why 
he  should  guess  that  anything  was  wrong,  but  I 
was  in  such  a  state  of  nerves  that,  as  he  raised 
his  hat,  and  his  eyebrows,  I  fancied  that  he 
imagined  all  sorts  of  things,  and  I  felt  myself 


106    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

grow  red  and  pale.  What  a  fool  I  was — and 
how  weak!  But  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  didn't 
wait  to  go  home.  I  wrote  a  few  lines  in  the 
cab,  and  sent  off  the  packet,  registered,  in  time 
I  hoped,  to  catch  the  post — but  after  all,  it 
didn't.  Coming  out  from  the  post  office,  there 
was  Godensky  again,  in  his  motor-brougham. 
That  could  have  been  no  coincidence.  A  horrid 
certainty  sprang  to  life  in  me  that  he'd  followed 
my  cab  from  the  Foreign  Office,  to  see  where  I 
would  go.  Why  couldn't  I  have  thought  of 
that  danger?  I  have  always  thought  of  things, 
and  guarded  against  them;  yet  this  time,  this 
time  of  all  others,  I  seemed  fated." 

"  But  if  Godensky  had  known  what  you  were 
doing,  the  game  would  have  been  up  for  you 
before  this,"  I  said. 

"  He  didn't  know,  of  course.  Only — if  he 
wants  to  be  a  woman's  lover  and  she  won't  have 
him,  he's  her  enemy  and  he's  the  enemy  of  the 
man  who  is  her  lover.  He's  too  clever  and  too 
careful  of  his  own  interests  to  speak  out  prema- 
turely anything  he  might  vaguely  suspect,  for  it 
would  do  him  harm  if  he  proved  mistaken.  He 
wouldn't  yet,  I  think,  even  warn  those  whom  it 
might  concern,  to  search  and  see  if  anything  in 
Raoul's  charge  were  out  of  order  or  missing. 
But  what  he  would  do,  what  I  think  he  has  done, 
is  this.  Having  some  idea,  as  he  may  have,  that 
my  relations  with  certain  important  persons  in 
England  are  rather  friendly,  and  seeing  me 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      10T 

come  from  the  Foreign  Office  to  go  almost 
straight  to  the  post,  it  might  have  occurred  to 
him  to  try  and  learn  the  name  of  my  corre- 
spondent. He  has  influence — he  could  perhaps 
have  found  out:  but  if  he  did,  it  wouldn't  have 
helped  him  much,  for  naturally,  my  dealings 
with  the  British  Foreign  Secretary  are  always 
well  under  cover — hence  a  delay  sometimes  in  his 
receiving  word  from  me.  What  I  send  can 
never  go  straight  to  him,  as  you  may  guess. 
Godensky  would  guess  that,  too:  and  he  would 
have  perhaps  informed  the  police,  very  cau- 
tiously, very  unofficially  and  confidentially,  that 
he  suspected  Maxine  de  Renzie  of  being  a  polit- 
ical spy  in  the  pay  of  England.  He  would 
have  advised  that  my  movements  be  watched  for 
the  next  few  days:  that  English  agents  of  the 
French  police  be  warned  to  watch  also,  on  their 
side  of  the  Channel.  He  would  have  argued  to 
himself  that  if  I'd  sent  any  document  away,  with 
Raoul's  connivance  or  without,  I  would  be  want- 
ing it  back  as  soon  as  possible;  and  he  would 
have  mentioned  to  the  police  that  possibly  a  mes- 
senger would  bring  me  something — if  my  cor- 
respondence through  the  post  was  found  to 
contain  nothing  compromising.  Oh,  there  have 
been  eyes  on  me,  and  on  every  movement  of 
mine,  I'm  sure.  See  how  efficient,  though  quiet, 
the  methods  have  been  where  you're  concerned. 
They — the  police — knew  the  name  of  the  man  I 
was  to  meet  here  at  this  hotel ;  and  if,  as  Goden- 


108    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

sky  must  have  hoped,  any  document  belonging 
to  the  French  Government  had  been  found  on 
you  or  me,  everything  would  have  played  into  his 
hands.  Raoul  would  have  been  ruined,  his 
heart  broken,  and  I — but  there  are  no  words  to 
express  what  I  would  have  suffered,  what  I  may 
yet  have  to  suffer.  Godensky  would  be  praised 
for  his  cleverness,  as  well  as  securing  a  satisfac- 
tory revenge  on  me  for  refusing  him.  The  only 
thing  which  rejoices  me  now  is  the  thought  of 
his  blank  disappointment  when  he  gets  the  news 
from  the  Commissary  of  Police." 

"  You  don't  believe  then,"  I  asked,  "  that 
Godensky  has  had  any  hand  in  the  disappearance 
of  the  treaty?" 

"  I  would  believe  it,  if  it  weren't  for  the  neck- 
lace being  put  in  its  place.  Even  if  Count  Go- 
densky could  have  known  of  Raoul's  mission  with 
the  diamonds,  and  got  them  into  his  own  hands, 
he  wouldn't  have  let  them  get  out  again  with 
every  chance  of  their  going  back  to  Raoul,  and 
thus  saving  him  from  his  trouble.  He'd  do 
nothing  to  help,  but  everything  to  hinder.  There 
lies  the  mystery — in  the  return  of  the  necklace 
instead  of  the  treaty.  You  have  no  knowledge 
of  it,  you  tell  me;  yet  you  come  to  me  with  it 
in  your  pocket — the  necklace  stolen  from  Raoul 
du  Laurier,  days  ago,  in  Amsterdam  or  on  the 
way  there." 

'  You're  certain  it's  the  same?  " 

"  Certain  as  that  you  are  you,  and  I  am  I. 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      109 

And  I'm  not  out  of  my  mind  yet — though  I 
soon  shall  be,  unless  you  somehow  save  me  from 
this  horror." 

"  I'm  going  to  try,"  I  said.  "  Don't  give  up 
hope.  I  wish,  though,  that  you  hadn't  to  act 
to-night." 

"  So  do  I.  But  there's  no  way  out  of  it.  And 
I  must  go  now  to  the  theatre,  or  I  shall  be  late: 
my  make-up's  a  heavy  one,  and  takes  a  long  time. 
I  can't  afford  to  have  any  talk  about  me  and  my 
affairs  to-night,  whatever  comes  afterwards. 
Raoul  will  be  in  a  box,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
first  act,  he'll  be  at  the  door  of  my  dressing- 
room.  The  agony  of  seeing  him,  of  hearing  him 
praise  my  acting,  and  saying  dear,  trusting,  lov- 
ing words  that  would  make  me  almost  too  happy, 
if  I  hadn't  betrayed  him,  ruined  his  career  for 
ever ! " 

"  Maybe  not,"  I  said.  "  And  anyhow,  there's 
the  necklace.  That's  something." 

*  Yes,  that's  something." 

"Will  Godensky  be  in  the  audience,  too?" 
I  asked. 

"I'm  sure  he  will.  He  couldn't  keep  away. 
But  he  may  be  late.  He  won't  come  until  he's 
had  a  long  talk  with  the  Commissary  of  Police, 
and  tried  to  thrash  matters  out." 

"  If  only  your  theory's  right,  then, — if  he 
hasn't  dared  yet  to  throw  suspicion  on  du 
Laurier,  and  if  the  loss  of  that  letter-case  with 
its  contents  is  as  much  of  a  mystery  to  him  as 


110    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

it  is  to  us,  we  have  a  little  time  before  us  still: 
we're  comparatively  safe  for  a  few  hours." 

"  We're  as  safe,"  answered  Maxine,  with  a 
kind  of  desperate  calmness,  "  as  if  we  were  in 
a  house  with  gunpowder  stored  underneath,  and 
a  train  laid  to  fire  it.  But " — she  broke  off 
bitterly,  "why  do  I  say  'tve't  To  you  all  this 
can  be  no  more  than  a  regret,  a  worry." 

*  You  know  that's  not  just!"  I  reproached 
her.  "  I'm  in  this  with  you  now,  heart  and  soul. 
I  spoke  no  more  than  the  truth  when  I  said  I'd 
give  my  life,  if  necessary,  to  redeem  my  failure. 
Already  I've  given  something,  but " 

'What  have  you  given?"  she  caught  me  up 
quickly. 

"  My  hope  of  happiness  with  a  girl  I  love  as 
you  love  du  Laurier,"  I  answered ;  then  regretted 
my  words  and  would  have  taken  them  back  if  I 
could,  for  she  had  a  heavy  enough  burden  to 
bear  already,  without  helping  me  bear  mine. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  think  of  it.  You  can  do  nothing ;  and 
I  don't  grudge  the  sacrifice — or  anything,"  I 
hurried  on. 

'Yet  I  will  think  of  it,  if  I  ever  have  time 
to  think  of  anything  beyond  this  tangle.  But 
now,  it  must  be  au  revoir.  Save  me,  save  Raoul, 
if  you  can,  Ivor.  What  you  can  do,  I  don't 
know.  I'm  groping  in  darkness.  Yet  you're 
my  one  hope.  For  pity's  sake,  come  to  my 
house  when  the  play's  over,  to  tell  me  what  you've 


IVOR  HEARS  THE  STORY      111 

done,  if  you've  been  able  to  do  anything.  Be 
there  at  twelve." 

"  I  promise." 

"  Thank  you.  I  shall  live  for  that  moment. 
Now,  give  me  the  diamonds,  and  I'll  go.  I  don't 
want  you  to  be  seen  with  me  outside  this  room." 

I  gave  her  the  necklace,  and  she  was  at  the 
door  before  I  could  open  it. 


CHAPTER   VII 

IVOR  IS  LATE  FOR  AN  APPOINTMENT 

I  WAS  glad  to  be  alone,  for  as  I  had  said,  I 
wanted  to  think  quietly. 

Maxine  had  taken  the  diamonds,  but  she  had 
slipped  the  necklace  into  the  bosom  of  her  dress, 
pressing  it  down  through  the  rather  low-cut 
opening  at  the  throat,  and  had  therefore  left  the 
leather  case.  I  picked  the  thing  up  from  the 
table  where  she  had  thrown  it,  and  examined.it 
carefully  for  the  first  time. 

It  had  not  been  originally  intended  as  a  jewel- 
case,  that  was  clear;  and  as  Maxine's  voice  had 
rung  unmistakably  true  when  she  denied  all 
previous  knowledge  of  it  to  the  police,  I  judged 
that  the  diamonds  had  not  been  in  it  when  the 
Duchess  entrusted  them  to  du  Laurier.  He 
would  almost  certainly  have  described  to  Maxine 
the  box  or  case  which  had  been  stolen  from  him, 
and  if  the  thing  pulled  out  from  the  sofa-hiding- 
place  had  recalled  his  description,  she  must  have 
betrayed  some  emotion  under  the  keen  eyes  of 
the  Commissary  of  Police. 

The  case  which,  it  seemed,  I  had  brought  to 
Paris,  looked  as  if  it  might  have  been  made  to 


IVOR   IS   LATE  %113 

hold  a  peculiar  kind  of  cigar,  much  longer  than 
the  ordinary  sort.  Within,  on  either  side,  was 
a  partition,  and  there  was  a  silver  clasp  on  which 
the  hallmark  was  English. 

"English  silver  1"  I  said  to  myself,  thought- 
fully. The  three  men  who  had  travelled  in  the 
carriage  with  me  from  London  to  Dover  were  all 
English.  Of  the  trio,  only  the  nervous  little 
fellow  who  had  reserved  the  compartment  for 
himself  had  found  the  smallest  possible  oppor- 
tunity to  steal  the  treaty  from  me,  and  exchange 
for  it  this  red  leather  case  containing  a  diamond 
necklace  worth  twenty  thousand  pounds.  If  he 
possessed  the  skill  and  quick  deftness  of  a  con- 
jurer or  a  marvellously  clever  professional  pick- 
pocket, as  well  as  the  incentive  of  a  paid  spy,  he 
might  conceivably  have  done  the  trick  at  the 
moment  of  alarm  on  the  boat's  gangway,  not 
afterwards ;  for  when  he  had  pressed  near  me  in 
the  Gare  du  ISTord  he  had  been  on  the  wrong 
side.  But  for  my  life  I  could  not  guess  the 
motive  for  such  an  exchange. 

Supposing  him  a  spy,  employed  to  track  and 
rob  me  of  what  I  carried,  why  should  he  have 
made  me  a  present  of  these  rare  and  precious 
diamonds?  Would  the  bribe  for  which  he  used 
his  skill  reach  anything  like  the  sum  he  could 
obtain  by  selling  the  stones  ?  I  was  almost  sure  it 
would  not;  and  therefore,  having  the  diamonds, 
it  would  have  been  far  more  to  his  advantage  to 
keep  them  than  to  stuff  them  into  my  pocket, 


114    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

simply  to  fill  up  the  space  where  the  case  with 
the  treaty  had  lain.  There  would  not  have  been 
time  yet  for  the  real  diamonds  to  have  been 
copied  in  Amsterdam,  therefore  it  would  be  use- 
less to  build  up  a  theory  that  the  stones  given 
me  might  be  false. 

Besides,  I  reminded  myself,  if  the  man  were 
a  spy  whose  business  was  to  watch  and  be  near 
me,  why  hadn't  he  waited  to  see  what  I  would 
do,  where  I  would  go,  instead  of  taking  a  com- 
partment, carefully  reserving  it,  and  trusting 
to  such  an  unlikely  chance  as  that  I  might  force 
myself  into  it  writh  him?  Even  if  the  three 
men  had  been  in  some  obscure  way  playing  into 
each  others'  hands,  I  could  not  see  how  their 
game  had  been  arranged  to  catch  me. 

Maxine  and  I  had  talked  for  a  long  time,  but 
not  two  hours  had  passed  yet  since  I  saw  the 
last  of  the  little  rat  of  a  man  in  the  railway- 
station.  Though  I  could  not  understand  any 
reason  for  his  tricking  me,  still  I  told  myself 
that  nobody  else  could  have  done  it,  and  I  de- 
cided to  go  back  at  once  to  the  Gare  du  Nord. 
There  I  might  still  be  able  to  find  sojne  trace  of 
the  little  man  and  of  my  two  other  fellow- 
travellers.  If  through  a  porter  or  cabman  I 
could  learn  where  they  had  gone,  I  might  have 
a  chance  even  now  of  getting  back  the  stolen 
treaty.  I  had  brought  with  me  from  London  a 
loaded  revolver,  warned  by  the  Foreign  Secre- 
tary that  to  do  so  would  be  a  wise  precau- 


IVOR   IS    LATE  115 

tion ;  and  I  was  ready  to  make  use  of  it  if  neces- 
sary. 

I  was  beginning  to  be  very  hungry,  but  that 
was  a  detail  of  no  importance,  for  I  had  no 
time  to  waste  in  eating.  I  went  to  the  railway- 
station  and  looked  about  until  I  found  a  porter 
whose  face  I  had  seen  when  I  got  out  of  the 
train.  He  had,  in  fact,  appeared  under  the 
window  of  my  compartment,  offering  himself  as 
a  luggage  carrier  and  had  been  close  behind 
me  when  my  late  travelling  companion  walked 
by  my  side.  Questioned,  he  appeared  not  to 
remember;  but  his  wits  being  sharpened  by  the 
gift  of  a  franc,  he  reflected  and  recalled  not 
only  my  features  but  the  features  of  the  little 
man,  whom  he  described  with  sufficient  accuracy. 
What  had  become  of  le  petit  Monsieur  he  was 
not  certain,  but  fancied  he  had  eventually  driven 
away  in  a  cab  accompanied  by  two  other  gentle- 
men. He  recollected  this  circumstance,  because 
the  face  of  the  cabman  was  one  that  he  knew; 
and  it  was  now  again  in  the  station,  for  the 
voiture  had  returned.  Would  he  point  out  the 
cosher  to  me?  He  would,  and  did,  receiving  a 
second  franc  for  his  pains. 

The  cab  driver  proved  to  be  a  dull  and  surly 
fellow,  like  many  another  cocker  of  Paris,  but 
the  clink  of  silver  and  the  sight  of  it  mellowed 
him.  I  began  by  saying  that  I  was  in  search  of 
three  friends  of  mine  whom  I  was  to  have  met 
when  the  boat  train  came  in,  but  whom  I  had 


116    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

unfortunately  missed.  I  asked  him  to  describe 
the  men  he  had  driven  away  from  the  station  at 
that  time,  and  though  he  did  it  clumsily,  betray- 
ing an  irritating  lack  of  observation  when  it 
came  to  details,  still  such  information  as  I  could 
draw  from  him  sounded  encouraging.  He 
remembered  perfectly  well  the  place  at  which 
he  had  deposited  his  three  passengers,  and  I 
decided  to  take  the  risk  of  following  them. 

When  I  say  "  risk,"  I  mean  the  risk  that  the 
man  I  was  starting  to  chase  might  turn  out 
not  to  be  the  man  I  wished  to  follow.  Besides, 
as  they  had  been  driven  to  Neuilly,  the  distance 
was  so  great  that,  if  I  went  there  in  a  cab,  and 
found  at  last  that  I  had  made  a  mistake,  I  should 
have  wasted  a  great  deal  of  valuable  time  on  the 
wrong  tack.  If  the  driver  had  remembered 
the  name  of  the  street,  and  the  number  of  the 
house  at  which  he  had  paused,  I  would  have 
hired  a  motor  and  flashed  out  to  the  place  in  a 
few  minutes;  but,  despite  a  suggested  bribe,  he 
could  say  no  more  than  that,  when  he  had  come 
to  a  certain  place,  one  of  his  passengers  had 
called,  "  Turn  down  the  next  street,  to  the  left." 
He  had  done  so,  and  in  front  of  a  house,  almost 
midway  along  that  street,  he  had  been  bidden 
to  stop.  He  had  not  bothered  to  look  at  the 
name  of  the  street;  but,  though  he  was  not  very 
familiar  with  that  neighbourhood,  various  land- 
marks would  guide  him  to  the  right  place,  when 
he  came  to  pass  them  again. 


IVOR   IS   LATE  117 

Having  heard  all  he  had  to  say,  I  reluctantly 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  could  do  no  better  than 
take  the  man  as  my  conductor;  and  accordingly, 
with  a  horse  already  tired,  I  drove  to  Neuilly. 
There,  the  landmarks  were  not  deceiving,  as  I 
was  half  afraid  they  would  be;  and  in  a  quiet 
street  of  the  suburb,  we  stopped  at  last  before 
a  fair-sized  house  with  lights  in  many  windows. 
Evidently  it  was  a  pension. 

Of  the  man-servant  who  answered  my  ring, 
I  enquired  if  three  English  gentlemen  had  lately 
arrived.  He  replied  that  they  had,  and  were 
dining.  Would  Monsieur  give  himself  the  pain 
of  waiting  a  few  minutes,  until  dinner  should 
be  over? 

My  answer  was  to  slip  a  five  franc  piece  into 
the  servant's  hand,  and  suggest  that  I  should  be 
shown  at  once  into  the  dining-room,  without 
waiting. 

<•••••  My  idea  was  to  catch  my  birds  while  they  fed, 
and  take  them  by  surprise,  lest  they  fly  away.  If 
I  pounced  upon  them  in  the  midst  of  a  meal,  at 
least  they  could  not  escape  before  being  recog- 
nised by  me:  and  as  to  what  should  come 
after  recognition,  the  moment  of  meeting  must 
decide. 

The  five  franc  piece  worked  like  a  charm.  I 
was  promptly  ushered  into  the  dining-room,  and 
standing  just  inside  the  door,  I  swept  the  long 
table  with  a  quick,  eager  glance.  About  eight- 
een or  twenty  people  were  dining,  but,  though 


118     THE    POWERS   AND   MAXINE 

several  were  unmistakably  English,  I  saw  no 
one  who  resembled  my  travelling  companions. 

Everyone  turned  and  stared.  There  was  no 
face  of  which  I  had  not  a  good  view.  In  a  low 
Toice  I  asked  the  servant  which  were  the  new 
arrivals  of  whom  he  had  spoken.  He  pointed 
them  out,  and  added  that,  though  they  had  come 
only  that  day  from  England,  they  were  old  pat- 
rons, well  known  in  the  house. 

As  I  lingered,  deeply  disappointed,  the  elderly 
proprietor  of  the  pension }  who  superintended 
the  comfort  of  his  guests,  trotted  fussily  up  to 
enquire  the  stranger's  business  in  his  dining- 
room.  I  explained  that  I  had  hoped  to  find 
friends,  and  was  so  polite  that  I  contrived  to 
get  permission  for  my  cabman  to  have  a  peep 
through  the  crack  of  the  door.  When  he  had 
identified  his  three  passengers,  all  hope  was  over. 
I  had  followed  the  wrong  men. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  go  back  to  the 
Gare  du  Nord,  and  question  more  porters  and 
cabmen.  Nobody  could  give  me  any  informa- 
tion wrorth  having,  it  seemed;  yet  the  little  man 
must  have  left  the  station  in  a  vehicle  of  some 
sort,  as  he  had  a  great  deal  of  small  luggage. 
Since  I  could  learn  nothing  of  him  or  his  move- 
ments, however,  and  dared  not,  because  of  Max- 
ine  and  the  British  Foreign  Secretary,  apply  to 
the  police  for  help,  I  determined  to  lose  no  more 
time  before  consulting  a  private  detective,  a  man 
iwhose  actions  I  could  control,  and  to  whom  I 


IVOR   IS   LATE  119 

need  tell  only  as  much  of  the  truth  as  I  chose, 
without  fear  of  having  the  rest  dragged  out  of 
me. 

At  my  own  hotel  I  enquired  of  the  manager 
where  I  could  find  a  good  private  detective,  got 
an  address,  and  motored  to  it,  the  speed  bracing 
my  nerves.  Fortunately,  (as  I  thought  then) 
Monsieur  Anatole  Girard  was  at  home  and  able 
to  receive  me.  I  was  shown  into  the  plain  but 
very  neat  little  sitting-room  of  a  flat  on  the 
fifth  floor  of  a  big  new  apartment  house,  and 
was  impressed  at  first  glance  by  the  clever  face 
of  the  dark,  thin  Frenchman  who  politely  bade 
me  welcome.  It  was  cunning,  as  well  as  clever, 
no  doubt :  but  then,  I  told  myself,  it  was  the  busi- 
ness of  a  person  in  Monsieur  Girard's  profession 
to  be  cunning. 

I  introduced  myself  as  Mr.  Sanford,  the 
name  I  had  been  told  to  give  at  the  £lysee  Palace 
Hotel.  This  seemed  best,  as  it  was  in  the  hotel 
that  I  had  been  recommended  to  Monsieur 
Girard,  and  complications  might  arise  if  George 
Sandford  suddenly  turned  into  Ivor  Dundas. 
Besides,  as  there  were  a  good  many  things  which 
I  did  not  want  brought  to  light,  Sandford 
seemed  the  man  to  fit  the  situation.  Later,  he 
could  easily  disappear  and  leave  no  trace. 

I  said  that  I  had  been  robbed  of  a  thing  which 
was  of  immense  value  to  me,  but  as  it  was  the 
gift  of  a  lady  whose  name  must  not  on  any 
account  appear  in  the  case,  I  did  not  wish  to 


120    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

consult  the  police.  All  I  asked  of  Monsieur 
Girard's  well-known  ability  was  the  discovery 
of  the  supposed  thief,  whom  I  thereupon 
described.  I  added  the  fact  that  we  had 
travelled  together,  mentioned  the  incident  at  the 
gangway,  and  explained  that  I  had  not  suspected 
my  loss  until  I  arrived  at  the  lillysee  Palace 
Hotel. 

Girard  listened  quietly,  evidently  realising 
that  I  talked  to  him  from  behind  a  screen  of 
reserve,  yet  not  seeking  to  force  me  to  put  aside 
that  screen.  He  asked  several  intelligent  ques- 
tions, very  much  to  the  point,  and  I  answered 
them — as  seemed  best.  When  he  touched  on 
points  which  I  considered  too  delicate  to  be 
handled  by  a  stranger,  even  a  detective  in  my 
employ,  I  frankly  replied  that  they  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  case  in  hand.  Shrug- 
ging his  shoulders  almost  imperceptibly,  yet 
expressively,  he  took  my  refusals  without  com- 
ment ;  and  merely  bowed  when  I  said  that,  if  the 
scoundrel  could  be  unearthed  within  twenty- four 
hours,  I  would  pay  a  hundred  pounds :  if  within 
twelve,  a  hundred  and  fifty:  if  within  six,  two 
hundred.  I  added  that  there  was  not  a  second 
to  waste,  as  the  fellow  might  slip  out  of  Paris 
at  any  minute;  but  whatever  happened,  Mon- 
sieur Girard  was  to  keep  the  matter  quiet. 

The  detective  promised  to  do  his  best,  (which 
was  said  to  be  very  good),  held  out  hopes  of 
success,  and  assured  me  of  his  discretion.  On 


IVOR   IS    LATE  121 

the  whole,  I  was  pleased  with  him.  He  looked 
like  a  man  who  thoroughly  knew  his  business; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  solemn  warning  of 
the  Foreign  Secretary,  and  the  risk  for  Maxine, 
I  would  gladly  have  put  more  efficient  weapons 
in  Girard's  hands,  by  telling  him  everything. 

By  the  time  that  the  detective  had  been  primed 
with  such  facts  and  details  as  I  could  give,  it 
was  past  ten  o'clock.  I  could  see  my  way  to  do 
nothing  more  for  the  moment,  and  as  I  was  half 
famished,  I  whizzed  back  in  my  hired  automobile 
to  the  Elysee  Palace  Hotel.  There  I  had  food 
served  in  my  own  sitting-room,  lest  George 
Sandford  should  chance  inconveniently  upon 
some  acquaintance  of  Ivor  Dundas,  in  the  res- 
taurant. I  did  not  hurry  over  the  meal,  for  all 
I  wanted  now  was  to  arrive  at  Maxine  de  Ren- 
zie's  house  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  tell  her  my 
news — or  lack  of  news.  She  would  be  there 
waiting  for  me,  I  was  sure,  no  matter  how 
prompt  I  might  be,  for  though  in  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, after  the  first  performance  of  a  new 
play,  either  Maxine  would  have  gone  out  to  sup- 
per, or  invited  guests  to  sup  with  her,  she  would 
have  accepted  no  invitation,  given  none,  for 
to-night.  She  would  hurry  out  of  the  theatre, 
probably  without  waiting  to  remove  her  stage 
make-up,  and  she  would  go  home  unaccom- 
panied, except  by  her  maid. 

Maxine  lives  in  a  charming  little  old- 
fashioned  house,  set  back  in  its  own  garden,  a 


122     THE    POWERS    AND   MAXINE 

great  "  find  "  in  a  good  quarter  of  Paris ;  and  her 
house  could  be  reached  in  ten  minutes'  drive 
from  my  hotel.  I  would  not  go  as  far  as  the 
gate,  but  would  dismiss  my  cab  at  the  corner  of 
the  quiet  street,  as  it  would  not  be  wise  to  adver- 
tise the  fact  that  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  was 
receiving  a  visit  from  a  young  man  at  midnight. 
Fifteen  minutes  would  give  me  plenty  of  time 
for  all  this:  therefore,  at  about  a  quarter  to 
twelve  I  started  to  go  downstairs,  and  in  the 
entrance  hall  almost  ran  against  the  last  person 
on  earth  I  expected  to  see — Diana  Forrest. 

She  was  not  alone,  of  course ;  but  for  a  second 
or  two  I  saw  no  one  else.  There  was  none  other 
except  her  precious  and  beautiful  face  in  the 
world ;  and  for  a  wild  instant  I  asked  myself  if 
she  had  come  here  to  see  me,  to  take  back  all  her 
cruel  words  of  misunderstanding,  and  to  take 
me  back  also.  But  it  was  only  for  an  instant — 
a  very  mad  instant. 

Then  I  realised  that  she  couldn't  have  known 
I  was  to  be  at  the  Iclysee  Palace  Hotel,  and  that 
even  if  she  had,  she  would  not  have  dreamed  of 
coming  to  me.  As  common  sense  swept  my 
brain  clear,  I  saw  near  the  precious  and  beautiful 
face  other  faces:  Lady  Mountstuart's,  Lord 
Mountstuart's,  Lisa  Drummond's,  and  Bob 
West's. 

They  were  all  in  evening  dress,  the  ladies  in 
charming  wraps  which  appeared  to  consist 
mostly  of  lace  and  chiffon,  and  evidently  they 


IVOR   IS   LATE  123 

had  just  come  into  the  hotel  from  some  place  of 
amusement.  The  beautiful  face,  which  had 
been  pale,  grew  rosy  at  sight  of  me,  though 
whether  with  amazement  or  anger,  or  both,  I 
couldn't  tell.  Lisa  smiled,  looking  more  impish 
even  than  usual ;  but  it  was  plain  that  the  others, 
Lord  Mountstuart  among  them,  were  surprised 
to  see  me  here. 

"Goodness,  is  it  you  or  your  ghost?" 
exclaimed  Lady  Mountstuart,  in  the  soft  accents 
of  California,  which  have  never  changed  in  spite 
of  the  long  years  of  her  married  life  in  Eng- 
land. 

If  it  had  been  my  ghost  it  would  have  van- 
ished immediately,  to  save  Di  from  embarrass- 
ment, and  also  to  prevent  any  delay  in  getting 
to  Maxine's.  But,  unfortunately,  a  flesh  and 
blood  young  man  must  stop  for  conventional 
politeness  before  he  can  disappear,  no  matter 
what  presses. 

I  said  "  How  do  you  do?  "  to  everyone,  adding 
that  I  was  as  surprised  to  see  them  as  they  could 
be  to  see  me.  I  even  grinned  civilly  at  Lord 
Robert  West,  though  finding  him  here  with  Di, 
looking  particularly  pleased  with  himself,  made 
me  want  to  knock  him  down. 

"  Oh,  it  was  a  plan,  as  far  as  Mounty  and 
Lord  Robert  and  I  are  concerned,"  explained 
Lady  Mountstuart.  "Of  course,  Lord  Robert 
ought  to  have  been  at  the  Duchess's  bazaar  this 
afternoon,  but  then  he  won't  show  up  at  such 


124    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

things,  even  to  please  his  sister,  and  Di  and  Lisa 
were  to  have  represented  me  there.  To-day  and 
to-morrow  are  the  only  days  all  three  of  us 
could  possibly  steal  to  get  away  and  look  at  a 
most  wonderful  motor  car,  made  for  a  Rajah  who 
died  before  it  was  ready.  Lord  Robert  certainly 
knows  more  about  automobiles  than  any  other 
human  being  does,  and  he  thought  this  was  just 
what  I  would  want.  Di  had  the  most  horrid 
headache  this  morning,  poor  child,  and  wasn't 
fit  for  the  fatigue  of  a  big  crush,  so,  as  she's  a 
splendid  sailor,  I  persuaded  her  to  come  with  us 
— and  Lisa,  too,  of  course.  We  caught  the 
afternoon  train  to  Boulogne,  and  had  such  a 
glorious  crossing  that  we  actually  all  had  the 
courage  to  dress  and  dine  at  Madrid — wasn't  it 
plucky  of  us?  But  we're  collapsing  now,  and 
have  come  back  early,  as  we  must  inspect  the  car 
the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning  and  do  a  heap 
of  shopping  afterwards." 

"  If  you're  collapsing,  I  mustn't  keep  you 
standing  here  a  moment,"  I  said,  anxious  for 
more  than  one  reason  to  get  away.  Di  wasn't 
looking  at  me.  Half  turned  from  me,  pur- 
posely I  didn't  doubt,  she  had  begun  a  conversa- 
tion with  Bob  West,  who  beamed  with  joy  over 
her  kindness  to  him  and  her  apparent  indiffer- 
ence to  me. 

'  Collapsing '  is  an  exaggeration  perhaps," 
laughed  Lady  Mountstuart.  "  But,  instead  of 
keeping  us  standing  here,  come  up  to  our  sitting- 


IVOR   IS    LATE  125 

room  and  have  a  little  talk — and  whisky  and 
soda." 

*  Yes,  do  come,  Dundas,"  her  husband  added. 

"  Thank  you  both,"  I  stammered,  trying  not 
to  look  embarrassed.  "  But — I  know  you're  all 
tired,  and " 

"And  perhaps  you  have  some  nice  engage- 
ment," piped  Lisa. 

"  It's  too  late  for  respectable  British  young 
men  to  have  engagements  in  naughty  Paris," 
said  Lady  Mountstuart,  laughing  again  (she 
looks  very  handsome  when  she  laughs,  and  knows 
it) .  "  Isn't  that  true,  Mr.  Dundas?  " 

"  It  depends  upon  the  engagement,"  I  man- 
aged to  reply  calmly.  But  then,  as  Di  suddenly 
turned  and  looked  straight  at  me  with  marked 
coldness,  the  blood  sprang  up  to  my  face.  I 
began  to  stammer  again  like  a  young  ass  of  a 
schoolboy.  "  I'm  afraid  that  I — er — the  fact  is, 
I  am  engaged.  A  matter  of  business.  I  wish 
I  could  get  out  of  it,  but  I  can't,  and — er — I 
shall  have  to  run  off,  or  I  will  be  late.  Good- 
bye,— good-bye."  Then  I  mumbled  something 
about  hoping  to  see  them  again  before  they  left 
Paris,  and  escaped,  knowing  that  I  had  made  a 
horrid  mess  of  my  excuses.  Di  was  laughing  at 
something  West  said,  as  I  turned  away,  and 
though  perhaps  his  remark  and  her  laugh  had 
nothing  to  do  with  me,  my  ears  burned,  and  there 
was  a  cold  lump  of  iron,  or  something  that  felt 
like  it,  where  my  heart  ought  to  have  been. 


126    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

Now  was  Lord  Robert's  time  to  propose — 
now,  when  she  believed  me  faithless  and 
unworthy — if  he  but  knew  it.  And  I  was  afraid 
that  he  would  know  it. 

I  got  out  into  the  open  air,  feeling  half-dazed 
as  one  of  the  under  porters  called  me  a  cab.  I 
gave  the  name  of  a  street  in  the  direction,  but  at 
some  distance  from  Maxine's,  lest  ears  should 
hear  which  ought  not  to  hear:  and  it  was  only 
when  we  were  well  away  from  the  hotel  that  I 
amended  my  first  instructions.  Even  then,  I 
mentioned  the  street  leading  into  the  one  where 
I  was  due,  not  the  street  itself. 

"  Depechez  vous"  I  added,  for  I  had  delayed 
eight  or  ten  minutes  longer  than  I  ought,  and 
this  had  upset  the  exactness  of  my  calculations. 
The  man  obeyed;  nevertheless,  instead  of  reach- 
ing the  top  of  Maxine's  street  at  two  or  three 
minutes  before  twelve,  as  I  had  intended,  it  was 
nearly  ten  minutes  past  when  I  got  out  of  my 
cab  at  the  corner:  and  when  I  came  to  the  gate 
of  the  house  a  clock  somewhere  was  striking  the 
quarter  hour  after  midnight. 


MAXINE  DE  RENZIE'S  PART 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MAXINE  ACTS  ON  THE  STAGE  AND  OFF 

How  I  got  through  the  play  on  that  awful 
night,  I  don't  know. 

When  I  went  onto  the  stage  to  take  up  my 
cue,  soon  after  the  beginning  of  the  first  act,  my 
brain  was  a  blank.  I  could  not  remember  a  sin- 
gle line  that  I  had  to  say.  I  couldn't  even  see 
through  the  dazzling  mist  which  floated  before 
my  eyes,  to  recognise  Raoul  in  the  box  where  I 
knew  he  would  be  sitting  unless — something  had 
happened.  But  presently  I  was  conscious  of 
one  pair  of  hands  clapping  more  than  all  the 
rest.  Yes,  Raoul  was  there.  I  felt  his  love 
reaching  out  to  me  and  warming  my  chilled 
heart  like  a  ray  of  sunshine  that  finds  its  way 
through  shadows.  I  must  not  fail.  For  his 
sake,  I  must  not  fail.  I  never  had  failed,  and 
I  would  not  now — above  all,  not  now. 

It  was  the  thought  of  Raoul  that  gave  me  back 
my  courage;  and  though  I  couldn't  have  said 
one  word  of  my  part  before  I  came  on  the  stage 
to  answer  that  first  cue,  by  the  time  the  applause 
had  died  down  enough  to  let  me  speak,  each  line 
seemed  to  spring  into  my  mind  as  it  was  needed. 
Then  I  got  out  of  myself  and  into  the  part,  as 

129 


130    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

I  always  do,  but  had  feared  not  to  do  to-night. 
The  audience  was  mine,  to  play  with  as  I  liked, 
to  make  laugh,  to  make  cry,  and  clap  its  hands 
or  shout  "  Brava-brava !  " 

Yet  for  once  I  feared  it,  feared  that  great 
crowd  of  people  out  there,  as  a  lion  tamer  must 
at  some  time  or  other  fear  one  of  his  lions. 

"What  if  they  know  all  I've  done?"  The 
question  flashed  across  my  brain.  "  What  if  a 
voice  in  the  auditorium  should  suddenly  shout 
that  Maxine  de  Renzie  had  betrayed  France  for 
money,  English  money? "  How  these  hands 
which  applauded  would  tingle  to  seize  me  by 
the  throat  and  choke  my  life  out. 

Still,  with  these  thoughts  murmuring  in  my 
head  like  a  kind  of  dreadful  undertone,  I  went 
on.  An  actress  can  always  go  on — till  she 
breaks.  I  think  that  she  can't  be  bent,  as  other 
women  can:  and  I  envy  the  women  who  haven't 
had  to  learn  the  lesson  of  hardening  themselves. 
It  seems  to  me  that  they  must  suif  er  less. 

At  last  came  the  end  of  the  first  act.  But 
there  wrere  five  curtain  calls.  Five  times  I  had 
to  go  back  and  smile,  and  bow,  and  look  de- 
lighted with  the  ovation  I  was  having.  Then, 
when  the  time  came  that  I  could  escape,  I  met 
on  the  way  to  my  dressing-room  men  carrying 
big  harps  and  crowns,  baskets  and  bunches  of 
flowers  which  had  been  sent  up  to  me  on  the 
stage.  I  pushed  past,  hardly  glancing  at  them, 
for  I  knew  that  Raoul  would  be  waiting. 


MAXINE  ACTS  ON  THE  STAGE    131 

There  he  was,  radiant  with  his  unselfish  pride 
in  me — my  big,  handsome  lover,  looking  more 
like  the  Apollo  Belvedere  come  alive  and  dressed 
in  modern  clothes  than  like  an  ordinary  diplo- 
matic young  man  from  the  Foreign  Office.  But 
then,  of  course,  he  is  really  quite  out  of  place  in 
diplomacy.  Since  he  can't  exist  on  a  marble 
pedestal  or  some  Old  Master's  canvas,  he  ought 
at  least  to  be  a  poet  or  an  artist — and  so  he  is  at 
heart ;  not  one,  but  both ;  and  a  dreamer  of  beau- 
tiful dreams,  as  beautiful  and  noble  as  his  own 
clear-cut  face,  which  might  be  cold  if  it  were  not 
for  the  eyes,  and  lips. 

There  were  people  about,  and  we  spoke  like 
mere  acquaintances  until  I'd  led  Raoul  into  the 
little  boudoir  which  adjoins  my  dressing-room. 
Then — well,  we  spoke  no  longer  like  mere  ac- 
quaintances. That  is  enough  to  say.  And  we 
had  five  minutes  together,  before  I  was  obliged 
to  send  him  away,  and  go  to  dress  for  the  second 
act. 

The  touch  of  Raoul's  hands,  and  those  lips  of 
his  that  are  not  cold*  gave  me  strength  to  go 
through  all  that  was  yet  to  come.  There's  some- 
thing almost  magical  in  the  touch — just  a  little, 
little  touch — of  the  one  we  love  best.  For  a 
moment  we  can  forget  everything  else,  even  if 
it  were  death  itself  waiting  just  round  the  cor- 
ner. I've  flirted  with  more  than  one  man,  some- 
times because  I  liked  him  and  it  amused  me, — as 
with  Ivor  Dundas, — sometimes  because  I  had  to 


win  him  for  politic  reasons.  But  I  never  knew 
that  blessed  feeling  until  I  met  Raoul  du  Lau- 
rier.  It  was  a  heavenly  rest  now  to  lay  my  head 
for  a  minute  on  his  shoulder,  just  shutting  my 
eyes,  without  speaking  a  word. 

I  thought — for  I  was  worn  out,  body  and 
soul,  with  the  strain  of  keeping  up  and  hiding 
my  secret — that  when  I  was  dead  the  best  para- 
dise would  be  to  lean  so  on  Raoul's  shoulder, 
never  moving,  for  the  first  two  or  three  hun- 
dred years  of  eternity.  But  as  the  peaceful 
fancy  cooled  my  brain,  back  darted  remem- 
brance, like  a  poisonous  snake.  I  reminded 
myself  how  little  I  deserved  such  a  paradise, 
and  how  my  lover's  dear  arms  would  put  me 
away,  in  a  kind  of  unbelieving  horror,  if  he 
knew  what  I  had  done,  and  how  I  had  betrayed 
his  trust  in  me. 

For  ten  years  I'd  been  a  political  spy — yes. 
But  I  owed  a  grudge  to  Russia,  which  I'd  prom- 
ised my  father  to  pay:  and  France  is  Russia's 
ally.  Besides,  it  seems  less  vile  to  betray  a  coun- 
try than  to  deceive  a  man  you  adore,  who  adores 
you  in  return.  We  women  are  true  as  truth  it- 
self to  those  we  love.  For  them  we  would  sacri- 
fice the  greatest  cause.  Always  I  had  known 
this,  and  I  had  thought  that  I  could  prove  my- 
self truer  than  the  truest,  if  I  ever  loved.  Yet 
now  I  had  betrayed  my  lover  and  sold  his  coun- 
try; and,  realising  what  I  had  done,  as  I  hardly 


MAXINE  ACTS  OX  THE  STAGE     133 

had  realised  it  till  this  moment,  I  suffered  tor- 
ture in  his  arms. 

Even  if,  by  something  like  a  miracle,  we  were 
saved  from  ruin,  nothing  on  earth  could  wash 
the  stain  from  my  heart,  which  Raoul  believed 
so  good,  so  pure. 

What  can  be  more  terrible  for  a  woman  than 
the  secret  knowledge  that  to  hold  a  man's  re- 
spect she  must  always  keep  one  dark  spot  cov- 
ered from  his  eyes?  Such  a  woman  needs  no 
future  punishment.  She  has  all  she  deserves  in 
this  world.  My  punishment  had  begun,  and  it 
would  always  go  on  through  my  life  with  Raoul, 
I  knew,  even  if  no  great  disaster  came.  Into  the 
heart  of  my  happiness  would  come  the  thought 
of  that  hidden  spot;  how  often,  oh,  how  often, 
would  I  feel  that  thought  stir  like  a  black  bat! 

I  could  no  longer  rest  with  my  eyes  shut,  at 
peace  after  the  storm.  I  shuddered  and  sobbed, 
though  my  lids  were  dry,  and  Raoul  tried  to 
soothe  me,  thinking  it  was  but  my  excitement 
in  playing  for  the  first  time  a  heavy  and  exact- 
ing part.  He  little  guessed  how  heavy  and  ex- 
acting it  really  was ! 

"Darling,"  he  said,  "you  were  wonderful. 
And  how  proud  I  was  of  you — how  proud  I  am. 
I  thought  it  would  be  impossible  to  worship  you 
more  than  I  did.  But  I  love  you  a  thousand 
times  more  than  ever  to-night." 

It  was  true,  I  knew.     I  could  see  it  in  his 


134     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

eyes,  hear  it  in  his  voice.  Since  his  dreadful 
misfortune  in  losing  the  diamonds,  since  I  had 
comforted  him  for  their  loss,  and  insisted  on 
giving  him  all  I  had  to  help  him  out  of  his 
trouble,  he  had  seen  in  me  the  angel  of  his  salva- 
tion. To-night  his  heart  was  almost  breaking 
with  love  for  me,  who  so  ill  deserved  it.  Now, 
I  had  news  for  him,  which  would  make  him  long 
to  shout  for  joy.  If  I  chose,  I  could  tell  him 
that  the  jewels  were  safe.  He  would  love  me 
still  more  passionately  in  his  happiness,  which 
I  had  given,  than  in  his  grief;  and  I  would  take 
all  his  love  as  if  it  were  my  right,  hiding  the 
secret  of  my  treachery  as  long  as  I  could.  But 
how  long  would  that  be?  How  could  I  be  sure 
that  the  theft  of  the  treaty  had  not  already  been 
discovered,  and  that  the  avalanche  of  ruin  was 
not  on  its  way  to  blot  us  for  ever  out  of  life  and 
love? 

The  fear  made  me  nestle  nearer  to  him,  and 
cling  tightly,  because  I  said  to  myself  that  per- 
haps I  might  never  be  in  his  arms  again:  that 
this  might  be  the  last  time  that  his  eyes — those 
eyes  that  are  not  cold — might  look  at  me  with 
love  in  them,  as  now. 

"  Suppose  all  these  people  out  there  had  hated 
and  hissed  me,  instead  of  applauding? "  I  asked. 
"  Would  you  still  be  proud  of  me.  still  care  for 
me?" 

"  I'd  love  you  better,  if  there  could  be  a  '  bet- 
ter,' "  he  answered,  holding  me  very  close. 


MAXINE  ACTS  OX  THE  STAGE    135 

'  You  know,  dearest  one,  most  beautiful  one, 
that  I'm  a  jealous  brute.  I  can't  bear  you  to 
belong  to  others — even  to  the  public  that  appre- 
ciates you  almost  as  much  as  you  deserve  to  be 
appreciated.  Of  course  I'm  proud  that  they 
adore  you,  but  I'd  like  to  take  you  away  from 
them  and  adore  you  all  by  myself.  Why,  if  the 
whole  world  turned  against  you,  there 'd  be  a 
kind  of  joy  in  that  for  me.  I'd  be  so  glad  of  the 
chance  to  face  it  for  you,  to  shield  you  from  it 
always." 

'  Then,  what  is  there  would  make  you  love  me 
less?"  I  went  on,  dwelling  on  the  subject  with 
a  dreadful  fascination,  as  one  looks  over  the 
brink  of  a  precipice. 

"  Nothing  on  God's  earth — while  you  kept 
true  to  me." 

"  And  if  I  weren't  true — if  I  deceived  you? " 

"  Why,  I'd  kill  you — and  myself  after.  But 
it  makes  me  see  red — a  blazing  scarlet — even 
to  think  of  such  a  thing.  Why  should  you  speak 
of  it — when  it's  beyond  possibility,  thank 
Heaven !  I  know  you  love  me,  or  you  wouldn't 
make  such  noble  sacrifices  to  save  me  from 
ruin." 

I  shivered:  and  I  shall  not  be  colder  when 
they  lay  me  in  my  coffin.  I  wished  that  I  had 
not  looked  over  that  precipice,  down  into  black- 
ness. Why  dwell  on  horrors,  when  I  might  have 
five  minutes  of  happiness — perhaps  the  last 
I  should  ever  know?  I  remembered  the  piece 


136    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

of  good  news  I  had  for  Raoul.  I  would  have 
told  him  then,  but  he  went  on,  saying  to  me  so 
many  things  sweet  and  blessed  to  hear,  that  I 
could  not  bear  to  cut  him  short,  lest  never  after 
this  should  he  speak  words  of  love  to  me.  Then 
—long  before  it  ought,  so  it  seemed — the 
clock  in  my  dressing-room  struck,  and  I  knew 
that  I  hadn't  another  instant  to  spare.  On  some 
first  nights  I  might  have  been  willing  to  risk 
keeping  the  curtain  down  (though  I  am  rather 
conscientious  in  such  ways),  but  to-night  I 
wanted,  more  than  anything  else,  to  have  the  play 
over,  and  to  get  home  by  midnight  or  before, 
so  that  my  suspense  might  be  ended,  and  I  might 
know  the  worst — or  best. 

"  I  must  go.  You  must  leave  me,  dear,"  I 
said.  "  But  I've  some  good  news  for  you  when 
there's  time  to  explain,  and  a  great  surprise.  I 
can't  give  you  a  minute  until  the  last,  for  you 
know  I've  almost  to  open  the  third  and  fourth 
acts.  But  when  the  curtain  goes  down  on  my 
death  scene,  come  behind  again.  I  shan't  take 
any  calls — after  dying,  it's  too  inartistic,  isn't 
it?  And  I  never  do.  I'll  see  you  for  just  a  few 
more  minutes  here,  in  this  room,  before  I  dress 
to  go  home." 

"  For  a  few  minutes ! "  Raoul  caught  me  up. 
"But  afterwards?  You  promised  me  long  ago 
that  I  should  have  supper  with  you  at  your 
house — just  you  and  I  alone  together — on  the 
first  night  of  the  new  play." 


MAXINE  ACTS  ON  THE  STAGE      137 

My  heart  gave  a  jump  as  he  reminded  me  of 
this  promise.  Never  before  had  I  forgotten  an 
engagement  with  Raoul.  But  this  time  I  had 
forgotten.  There  had  been  so  many  miserable 
things  to  think  of,  that  they  had  crowded  the 
one  pleasant  thing  out  of  my  tortured  brain.  I 
drew  away  from  him  involuntarily  with  a  start 
of  surprise. 

'You'd  forgotten!"  exclaimed  Raoul,  disap- 
pointed and  hurt. 

"  Only  for  the  instant,"  I  said,  "  because  I'm 
hardly  myself.  I'm  tired  and  excited,  unstrung, 
as  I  always  am  on  first  nights.  But " 

'  Would  you  rather  not  be  bothered  with 
me  ? "  he  asked  wistfully,  as  I  paused  to  think 
what  I  should  do. 

His  eyes  looked  as  if  the  light  had  suddenly 
gone  out  of  them,  and  I  couldn't  bear  that.  It 
might  too  soon  be  struck  out  for  ever,  and  by  me. 

"  Don't  say  '  bothered' !  "  I  reproached  him. 
:<  That's  a  cruel  word.  The  question  is — I'm 
worn  out.  I  don't  think  I  shall  be  able  to  eat 
supper.  My  maid  will  want  to  put  me  to  bed, 
the  minute  I  get  home.  Poor  old  Marianne! 
She's  such  a  tyrant,  when  she  fancies  it's  for 
my  good.  It  generally  ends  in  my  obeying  her — 
seldom  in  her  obeying  me.  But  we'll  see  how  I 
feel  when  the  last  act's  over.  We'll  talk  of  it 
when  you  come  here — after  my  death."  I  tried 
to  laugh,  as  I  made  that  wretched  jest,  but  I  was 
sorry  when  I  made  it,  and  my  laugh  didn't  ring 


138    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

true.  There  was  a  shadow  on  Raoul's  face — 
that  dear,  sensitive  face  of  his  which  shows  too 
much  feeling  for  a  man  in  this  work-a-day, 
strenuous  world — but  I  had  little  time  to  com- 
fort him. 

"  It  will  be  like  coming  to  life  again,  to  see 
you,"  I  said.  "And  now,  good-bye  I  no,  not 
good-bye,  but  au  revoir" 

I  sent  him  away,  and  flew  into  my  dressing- 
room  next  door,  where  Marianne  was  grow- 
ing very  nervous,  and  aimlessly  shifting  my 
make-up  things  on  the  dressing  table,  or  fussing 
with  some  part  of  my  dress  for  the  next  act. 

"  There's  a  letter  for  you,  Mademoiselle," 
said  she.  ;'  The  stage-door  keeper  just  brought 
it  round.  But  you  haven't  time  to  read  it  now." 

A  wave  of  faintness  swept  over  me.  Suppos- 
ing Ivor  had  had  bad  news,  and  thought  it  best 
to  warn  me  without  delay? 

"  I  must  read  the  letter,"  I  insisted.  "  Give 
it  to  me  at  once." 

Occasionally  Marianne  (who  has  been  with 
me  for  many  years,  and  is  old  enough  to  be  my 
mother)  argues  a  matter  on  which  we  disagree: 
but  something  in  my  voice,  I  suppose,  made  her 
obey  me  with  extraordinary  promptness.  Then 
came  a  shock — and  not  of  relief.  I  recognised 
on  the  envelope  the  handwriting  of  Count  Go- 
densky. 

I  know  that  I  am  not  a  coward.  Yet  it  wras 
only  by  the  strongest  efFort  of  will  that  I  forced 


MAXINE  ACTS  ON  THE  STAGE     139 

myself  to  open  that  letter.  I  was  afraid — 
afraid  of  a  hundred  things.  But  most  of  all, 
I  was  afraid  of  learning  that  the  treaty  was  in 
his  hands.  It  would  be  like  him  to  tell  me  he 
had  it,  and  try  to  drive  some  dreadf  ul  bargain. 

Nerving  myself,  as  I  suppose  a  condemned 
criminal  must  nerve  himself  to  go  to  the  guillo- 
tine or  the  gallows,  I  opened  the  letter.  For  as 
long  as  I  might  have  counted  "  one,  two,"  slowly, 
the  paper  looked  black  before  my  eyes,  as  if  ink 
were  spilt  over  it,  blotting  out  the  words:  but 
the  dark  smudge  cleared  away,  and  showed  me 
— nothing,  except  that,  if  Alexis  Godensky  held 
a  trump  card,  I  was  not  to  have  a  sight  of  it  until 
later,  when  he  chose. 

"  MY  DEAR  MAXINE,"  [he  began  his  letter, 
though  he  had  never  been  given  the  right  to  call 
me  Maxine,  and  never  had  dared  so  to  call  me 
before]  "  I  must  see  you,  and  talk  to  you  this 
evening,  alone.  This  for  your  own  sake  and  that 
of  another,  even  more  than  mine,  though  you 
know  very  well  what  it  is  to  me  to  be  with  you. 
Perhaps  you  may  be  able  to  guess  that  this  is 
important.  I  am  so  sure  that  you  will  guess, 
and  that  you  will  not  only  be  willing  but  anxious 
to  see  me  to-night,  if  you  never  were  before,  that 
I  shall  venture  to  be  waiting  for  you  at  the  stage 
door  when  you  come  out. 

"  Yours,  in  whatever  way  you  will, 

"  ALEXIS." 


140    THE    POWERS   AND    MAXINE 

If  anything  could  have  given  me  pleasure  at 
that  moment,  it  would  have  been  to  tear  the  let- 
ter in  little  pieces,  with  the  writer  looking  on. 
Then  to  throw  those  pieces  in  his  hateful  face, 
and  say,  "  That's  your  answer.'* 

But  he  was  not  looking  on,  and  even  if  he  had 
been  I  could  not  have  done  wrhat  I  wished.  He 
knew  that  I  would  have  to  consent  to  see  him, 
that  he  need  have  no  fear  I  would  profit  by  my 
knowledge  of  his  intentions,  to  order  him  sent 
away  from  the  stage  door.  I  would  have  to  see 
him.  But  how  could  I  manage  it  after  refusing 
— as  I  must  refuse — to  let  Raoul  go  home  with 
me?  Raoul  was  coming  to  me  after  my  death 
scene  on  the  stage.  At  the  very  least,  he  would 
expect  to  put  me  into  my  carriage  when  I  left 
the  theatre,  even  if  he  went  no  further.  Yet 
there  would  be  Godensky,  waiting,  and  Raoul 
would  see  him.  What  could  I  do  to  escape  from 
such  an  impasse? 


CHAPTER   IX 

MAXINE    GIVES    BACK    THE   DIAMONDS 

I  TRIED  to  answer  the  question,  to  decide 
something;  but  my  brain  felt  dead.  "I  can't 
think  now.  I  must  trust  to  luck — trust  to  luck," 
I  said  to  myself,  desperately,  as  Marianne 
dressed  me.  "  By  and  by  I'll  think  it  all  out." 

But  after  that  my  part  gave  me  no  more  time 
to  think.  I  was  not  Maxine  de  Renzie,  but  Prin- 
cess Helene  of  Hungaria,  whose  tragic  fate  was 
even  more  sure  and  swift  than  miserable  Max- 
ine's.  When  Princess  Helene  had  died  in  her 
lover's  arms,  however  (died  as  Maxine  had  not 
deserved  to  die),  and  I  was  able  to  pick  up  the 
tangled  threads  of  my  own  life,  where  I'd  laid 
them  down,  the  questions  were  still  crying  out 
for  answer,  and  must  somehow  be  decided  at 
once. 

First,  there  was  Raoul  to  be  put  off  and  got 
out  of  the  way — Raoul,  my  best  beloved,  whose 
help  and  protection  I  needed  so  much,  yet  must 
forego,  and  hurt  him  instead. 

The  stage-door  keeper  had  orders  to  let  him 
"  come  behind,"  and  so  he  was  already  waiting 
at  the  door  of  my  little  boudoir  by  the  time 

141 


142     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

Helene  had  died,  the  curtain  had  gone  down, 
and  Maxine  de  Renzie  had  been  able  to  leave  the 
stage. 

As  we  went  together  into  the  room,  he  caught 
both  my  hands,  crushing  them  tightly  in  his,  and 
kissing  them  over  and  over  again.  But  his  face 
was  pale  and  sad,  and  a  new  fear  sprang  up  in 
my  heart,  like  a  sudden  live  flame  among  red 
ashes. 

"What  is  it,  Raoul? — why  do  you  look  like 
that?"  I  asked;  while  inside  my  head  another 
question  sounded  like  a  shriek.  "  What  if  some 
word  had  come  to  him  in  the  theatre — about  the 
treaty?" 

Then  I  could  have  cried  as  a  child  cries,  with 
the  snapping  of  the  tension,  when  he  answered: 
"  It  was  only  that  terrible  last  scene,  darling. 
I've  seen  you  die  in  other  parts.  But  it  never 
affected  me  like  this.  Perhaps  it's  because  you 
didn't  belong  to  me  in  those  days.  Or  is  it  that 
you  were  more  realistic  in  your  acting  to-night 
than  ever  before?  Anyway,  it  was  awful — so 
horribly  real.  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  sit  still 
and  not  jump  out  of  the  box  to  save  you. 
Prince  Cyril  was  a  poor  chap  not  to  thwart  the 
villain.  I  should  have  killed  him  in  the  third 
act,  and  then  Helene  might  have  been  happily 
married,  instead  of  dying." 

'  I  believe  you  would  have  killed  him,"  I  said. 

"  I  know  I  should.  It's  a  mistake  not  to  be 
jealous.  I  admit  that  I'm  jealous.  But  such 


jealousy  is  a  compliment  to  a  woman,  my  dear- 
est, not  an  insult." 

"  How  you  feel  things !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Even 
a  play  on  the  stage " 

"  If  the  woman  I  love  is  the  heroine." 

"  Will  you  ever  be  blase,  like  the  rest  of  the 
men  I  know?"  I  laughed,  though  I  could  have 
sobbed. 

"  Never,  I  think.  It  isn't  in  me.  Do  you  de- 
spise me  for  my  enthusiasm?  " 

"  I  only  love  you  the  more,"  I  said,  wondering 
every  instant,  in  a  kind  of  horrid  undertone,  how 
I  was  to  get  him  away. 

"I  admit  I  wasn't  made  for  diplomacy,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  wish  I  had  money  enough  to  get 
out  of  it  and  take  you  off  the  stage,  away  into 
some  beautiful,  peaceful  world,  where  we  need 
think  of  nothing  but  our  love  for  each  other,  and 
the  good  we  might  do  others  because  of  our  love, 
and  to  keep  our  world  beautiful.  Would  you 
go  with  me?" 

"  Ah,  if  I  could!  "  I  sighed.  "  If  I  could  go 
with  you  to-morrow,  away  into  that  beautiful, 
peaceful  world.  But — who  knows?  Mean- 
while  » 

"  Meanwhile,  you  don't  mean  to  send  me  away 
from  you?"  he  pleaded,  in  a  coaxing  way  he  has, 
which  is  part  of  his  charm,  and  makes  him  seem 
like  a  boy.  "  You  don't  know  what  it  is,  after 
that  scene  of  your  death  on  the  stage,  where  I 
couldn't  get  to  you — where  another  man  was 


144    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

your  lover — to  touch  you  again,  alive  and  warm, 
your  own  adorable,  vivid  self.  You  will  let  me 
go  home  with  you,  in  your  carriage,  anyhow  as 
far  as  the  house,  and  kiss  you  good-night  there, 
even  if  you're  so  tired  you  must  drive  me  out 
then?" 

I  would  have  given  all  my  success  of  that 
night,  and  more,  to  say  "yes."  But  instead  I 
had  to  stumble  into  excuses.  I  had  to  argue 
that  we  mustn't  be  seen  leaving  the  theatre  to- 
gether— yet,  until  everyone  knew  that  we  were 
engaged.  As  for  letting  him  come  to  me  at 
home,  if  he  dreamt  how  my  head  ached,  he 
wouldn't  ask  it.  I  almost  broke  down  as  I  said 
this;  and  poor  Raoul  was  so  sorry  for  me  that 
he  immediately  offered  to  leave  me  at  once. 

"  It's  a  great  sacrifice,  though,  to  give  up  what 
I've  been  looking  forward  to  for  days,"  he  said, 
"  and  to  let  you  go  from  me  to-night  of  all 
nights." 

"Why  to-night  of  all  nights?"  I  asked 
quickly,  my  coward  conscience  frightening  me 
again. 

"  Only  because  I  love  you  more  than  ever,  and 
— it's  a  stupid  feeling,  of  course,  I  suppose 
all  the  fault  of  that  last  scene  in  the  play — 

yet  I  feel  as  if But  no,  I  don't  want  to 

say  it." 

'  You  must  say  it,"  I  cried. 

"  Well,  if  only  to  hear  you  contradict  me,  then. 
I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  danger  of  losing  you.  It's 


GIVES   BACK   THE   DIAMONDS     145 

just  a  feeling — a  weight  on  my  heart.    Nothing 
more.     Rather  womanish,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Not  womanish,  but  foolish,"  I  said.  "  Shake 
off  the  feeling,  as  one  wakes  up  from  a  night- 
mare. Think  of  to-morrow.  Meeting  then 
will  be  all  the  sweeter."  As  I  spoke,  it  was  as 
if  a  voice  echoed  mine,  saying  different  words 
mockingly.  "  If  there  be  any  meeting — to-mor- 


row, or  ever." 


I  shut  my  ears  to  the  voice,  and  went  on 
quickly : 

"  Before  we  say  good-bye,  I've  something  to 
show  you — something  you'll  like  very  much. 
Wait  here  till  I  get  it  from  the  next  room." 

Marianne  was  tidying  my  dressing-room  for 
the  night,  bustling  here  and  there,  a  dear  old, 
comfortable,  dependable  thing.  She  was  de- 
lighted with  my  success,  which  she  knew  all 
about,  of  course;  but  she  was  not  in  the  least 
excited,  because  she  had  loyally  expected  me  to 
succeed,  and  would  have  thought  the  sky  must 
be  about  to  fall  if  I  had  failed.  She  was  as 
placid  as  she  was  on  other,  less  important  nights, 
far  more  placid  than  she  would  have  been  if  she 
had  known  that  she  was  guarding  not  only  my 
jewellery,  but  a  famous  diamond  necklace,  worth 
at  least  five  hundred  thousand  francs. 

There  it  was,  under  the  lowest  tray  of  my 
jewel  box.  I  had  felt  perfectly  safe  in  leaving 
it  there,  for  I  knew  that  nothing  on  earth — short 
of  a  bomb  explosion — could  tempt  the  good 


146    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

creature  out  of  my  dressing-room  in  my  ab- 
sence, and  that  even  if  a  bomb  did  explode,  she 
would  try  to  be  blown  up  with  my  jewel  box 
clutched  in  her  hands. 

Saying  nothing  to  Marianne,  who  was  brush- 
ing a  little  stage  dust  off  my  third  act  dress, 
with  my  back  to  her  I  took  out  tray  after  tray 
from  the  box  (which  always  came  with  us 
to  the  theatre  and  went  away  again  in  my  car- 
riage) until  the  electric  light  over  the  dressing 
table  set  the  diamonds  on  fire. 

Really,  I  said  to  myself,  they  were  wonderful 
stones.  I  had  no  idea  how  magnificent  they 
were.  Not  that  there  were  a  great  many  of 
them.  The  necklace  was  composed  of  a  single 
row  of  diamonds,  with  six  flat  tassels  depending 
from  it.  But  the  smallest  stones  at  the  back, 
where  the  clasp  came,  were  as  large  as  my  little 
finger  nail,  and  the  largest  were  almost  the  size 
of  a  filbert.  All  were  of  perfect  colour  and  fire, 
extraordinarily  deep  and  faultlessly  shaped,  as 
well  as  flawless.  Besides,  the  necklace  had  a 
history  which  would  have  made  it  interesting 
even  if  it  hadn't  been  intrinsically  of  half  its 
value. 

With  the  first  thrill  of  pleasure  I  had  felt 
since  I  knew  that  the  treaty  had  disappeared  I 
lifted  the  beautiful  diamonds  from  the  box,  and 
slipped  them  into  a  small  embroidered  bag  of 
pink  and  silver  brocade  which  lay  on  the  table. 
It  was  a  foolish  but  pretty  little  bag,  which  a 


GIVES   BACK   THE   DIAMONDS     147 

friend  had  made  and  sent  to  me  at  the  theatre 
a  few  nights  ago,  and  was  intended  to  carry  a 
purse  and  handkerchief.  But  I  had  never  used 
it  yet.  Now  it  seemed  a  convenient  receptacle 
for  the  necklace,  and  I  suddenly  planned  out 
my  way  of  giving  it  to  Raoul. 

At  first,  earlier  in  the  evening,  I  had  meant 
to  put  the  diamonds  in  his  hands  and  say,  "See 
what  I  have  for  you!  "  But  now  I  had  changed 
my  mind,  because  he  must  be  induced  to  go  away 
as  quickly  as  possible — quite,  quite  away  from 
the  theatre,  so  that  there  would  be  no  danger  of 
his  seeing  Count  Godensky  at  the  stage  door. 
I  was  not  sorry  that  Raoul  was  jealous,  because, 
as  he  said,  his  jealousy  was  a  compliment  to  me; 
and  it  is  possible  only  for  a  cold  man  never  to  be 
jealous  of  a  woman  in  my  profession,  who  lives 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  But  I  did  not  want  him 
to  be  jealous  of  the  Russian;  and  he  would  be 
horribly  jealous,  if  he  thought  that  he  had  the 
least  cause. 

If  I  showed  him  the  diamonds  now,  he  would 
want  to  stop  and  talk.  He  would  ask  me  ques- 
tions which  I  would  rather  not  answer  until  I'd 
seen  Ivor  Dundas  again,  and  knew  better  what 
to  say — whether  truth  or  fiction.  Still,  I  wished 
Raoul  to  have  the  necklace  to-night,  because  it 
would  mean  all  the  difference  to  him  between 
constant,  gnawing  anxiety  and  the  joy  of  deliv- 
erance. Let  him  have  a  happy  night,  even  though 
I  was  sending  him  away,  even  though  I  did  not 


148    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

know  what  to-morrow  might  bring,  either  for 
him  or  for  me. 

I  tied  the  gold  cords  of  the  bag  in  two  hard 
knots,  and  went  out  with  it  to  Raoul  in  the  next 
room. 

*  This  holds  something  precious,"  I  said,  smil- 
ing at  him,  and  making  a  mystery.  "  You'll 
value  the  something,  I  know — partly  for  itself, 
partly  because  I — because  I've  been  at  a  lot  of 
trouble  to  get  it  for  you.  When  you  see  it,  you'll 
be  more  resigned  not  to  see  me — just  for  to- 
night. But  you're  to  write  me  a  letter,  please, 
and  describe  accurately  every  one  of  your  sensa- 
tions on  opening  the  bag.  Also,  you  may  say  in 
your  letter  a  few  kind  things  about  me,  if  you 
like.  And  I  want  it  to  come  to  me  when  I  first 
wake  up  to-morrow  morning.  So  go  now,  dear- 
,est,  and  have  the  sensations,  and  write  about 
them.  I  shall  be  thinking  of  you  every  minute, 
asleep  or  awake." 

"Why  mayn't  I  look  now?"  asked  Raoul, 
taking  the  soft  mass  of  pink  and  silver  from  me, 
in  the  nice,  clumsy  way  a  big  man  has  of  han- 
dling a  woman's  things. 

"  Because — just  because.  But  perhaps  you'll 
guess  why,  by  and  by,"  I  said.  Then  I  held 
up  my  face  to  be  kissed,  and  he  bundled  the 
small  bag  away  in  an  inside  pocket  of  his  coat, 
as  carelessly  as  if  it  held  nothing  but  a  handker- 
chief and  a  pair  of  gloves. 


'This  holds  something  precious,"  I  said. — Page  148 


GIVES   BACK   THE   DIAMONDS     149 

"Be  careful!"  I  couldn't  help  exclaiming. 
But  I  don't  think  he  heard,  for  he  had  me  in  his 
arms  and  was  kissing  me  as  if  he  knew  the  fear 
in  my  heart — the  fear  that  it  might  be  for  the 
last  time. 


CHAPTER  X 

MAXINE  DRIVES  WITH  THE  ENEMY 

WHEN  Raoul  was  gone  I  made  Marianne 
hurry  me  out  of  the  cloth-of-gold  and  filmy  tis- 
sue in  which  the  unfortunate  Princess  Helene 
had  died,  and  into  the  black  gown  in  which  the 
almost  equally  unfortunate  Maxine  had  come  to 
the  theatre.  I  did  not  even  stop  to  take  off  my 
make-up,  for  though  the  play  was  an  unusually 
short  one,  and  all  the  actors  and  actresses  had 
followed  my  example  of  prompt  readiness  for 
all  four  acts,  it  lacked  twenty  minutes  of  twelve 
when  I  was  dressed.  I  had  to  see  Count  Go- 
densky,  get  rid  of  him  somehow,  and  still  be  in 
time  to  keep  my  appointment  with  Ivor  Dundas, 
for  which  I  knew  he  would  strain  every  nerve 
not  to  be  late. 

My  electric  carriage  would  be  at  the  stage 
door,  and  my  plan  was  to  speak  to  Godensky, 
if  he  were  waiting,  if  possible  learn  in  a  moment 
or  two  whether  he  had  really  found  out  the  truth, 
and  then  act  accordingly.  But  if  I  could  avoid 
it,  I  meant,  in  any  case,  to  put  off  a  long  conver- 
sation until  later. 

150 


MAXINE   DRIVES  151 

I  had  drawn  my  veil  down  before  walking  out 
of  the  theatre,  yet  Godensky  knew  me  at  once, 
and  came  forward.  Evidently  he  had  been 
watching  the  door. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  said.  "  A  hundred  con- 
gratulations." 

He  put  out  his  hand,  and  I  had  to  give  him 
mine,  for  my  chauffeur  and  the  stage-door 
keeper  (to  say  nothing  of  Marianne,  who  fol- 
lowed me  closely),  and  several  stage-carpen- 
ters, with  other  employes  of  the  theatre, 
were  within  seeing  and  hearing  distance.  I 
wanted  no  gossip,  though  that  was  exactly  what 
might  best  please  Count  Godensky. 

"  I  got  your  note,"  I  answered,  in  Russian, 
though  he  had  spoken  in  French.  "What  is  it 
you  want  to  see  me  about?" 

"  Something  that  can't  be  told  in  a  moment," 
he  said.  "  Something  of  great  importance." 

"  I'm  very  tired,"  I  sighed.  "  Can't  it  wait 
until  to-morrow? " 

I  tried  to  "  draw  "  him,  and  to  a  certain  extent, 
I  succeeded. 

'  You  wouldn't  ask  that  question,  if  you 
guessed  what — I  know,"  he  replied. 

Was  it  a  bluff,  or  did  he  know — not  merely 
suspect — something  ? 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  I  said  quietly, 
though  my  lips  were  dry. 

"  Shall  I  mention  the  word — document? "  he 
hinted.  "  Really,  I'm  sure  you  won't  regret  it 


if  you  let  me  drive  home  with  you,  Mademoi- 
selle." 

"  I  can't  do  that,"  I  answered.  "  And  I  can't 
take  you  into  my  carriage  here.  But  I'll  stop 
for  you,  and  wait  at  the  corner  Rue  Eugene 
Beauharnais.  Then  you  can  go  with  me  until 
I  think  it  best  for  you  to  get  out." 

'  Very  well,"  he  agreed.  "  But  send  your 
maid  home  in  a  cab;  I  can  not  talk  before 
her." 

'  Yes,  you  can.  She  knows  no  language  ex- 
cept French — and  a  little  English.  She  always 
drives  home  with  me." 

This  was  true.  But  if  I  had  been  talking  to 
Raoul,  I  would  perhaps  have  given  the  dear  old 
woman  her  first  experience  of  being  sent  off  by 
herself.  In  that  case,  she  would  not  have 
minded,  for  she  likes  Raoul,  admires  him  as  a 
"  dream  of  a  young  man,"  and  already  suspected 
what  I  hadn't  yet  told  her — that  we  were  en- 
gaged. But  with  Count  Godensky  forced  upon 
me  as  a  companion,  I  would  not  for  any  consid- 
eration have  parted  with  Marianne. 

Three  or  four  minutes  after  starting  I  was 
giving  instructions  to  my  chauffeur  where  to 
stop,  and  almost  immediately  afterwards  Go- 
densky appeared.  He  got  in  and  took  the  place 
at  my  left,  Marianne,  silent,  but  doubtless  as- 
tonished, facing  us  on  the  little  front  seat. 

"  Now, "  I  exclaimed.  "  Please  begin 
quickly." 


MAXIXE    DRIVES  153 

"Don't  force  me  to  be  too  abrupt,"  he  said. 
"  I  would  spare  you  if  I  could.  You  speak  as 
if  you  grudged  me  every  moment  with  you. 
Yet  I  am  here  because  I  love  you." 

"Oh,  please,  Monsieur!"  I  broke  in.  "You 
know  I've  told  vou  that  is  useless." 

•j 

"  But  everything  is  changed  since  then.  Per- 
haps now,  even  your  mind  will  be  changed. 
That  happens  with  women  sometimes.  I  want 
to  warn  you  of  a  great  danger  that  threatens 
you,  Maxine.  Perhaps,  late  as  it  is,  I  could  save 
you  from  it  if  you'd  let  me." 

"  Save  me  from  what?"  I  asked  temporising. 
'  You're  very  mysterious,  Count  Godensky. 
And  I'm  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  except  to  my 
very  intimate  friends." 

"  I  am  your  friend,  always.  Maybe  you  will 
even  permit  me  to  speak  of  myself  as  your  '  in- 
timate friend '  when  I  have  done  what  I  hope  to 
do  for  you  in — in  the  matter  of  a  certain  docu- 
ment which  has  disappeared." 

I  was  quivering  all  over.  But  I  had  not  lost 
hope  yet;  I  think  that  some  women,  feeling  as 
I  did,  would  have  fainted.  But  it  would  have 
been  better  for  me  to  die  and  be  out  of  my  trou- 
bles for  ever,  than  to  let  myself  faint  and  show 
Godensky  that  he  had  struck  home. 

"  Be  quiet.  Be  cool.  Be  brave  now,  if  never 
again,"  I  said  to  myself.  And  my  voice  sounded 
perfectly  natural  as  I  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  the 
'  document '  again.  The  one  you  spoke  about 


154    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

when  we  first  met  to-night.  You  rouse  my  curi- 
osity. But  I  don't  in  the  least  know  what  you 
mean." 

;'  The  loss  of  it  is  known,"  he  said. 

"  Ah,  it's  a  lost  document?  " 

"As  you  will  be  lost,  Maxine,  if  you  don't 
come  to  me  for  the  help  I'm  only  too  glad  to 
give — on  conditions.  Let  me  tell  you  what  they 
are." 

;<  Wouldn't  it  be  more  to  the  point  if  you  told 
me  what  the  document  is,  and  how  it  concerns 
me  ?  "  I  parried  him,  determined  to  bring  him  to 
bay. 

"  Aren't  you  evading  the  point  far  more  than 
I?  The  document — which  you  and  I  can  both 
see  as  plainly  before  our  eyes  at  this  instant  as 
though  it  were  in — let  us  say  your  hands,  or — 
du  Laurier's,  if  he  were  here — that  document  is 
far  too  important  even  to  name  within  hearing 
of  other  ears." 

"Marianne's?  But  I  told  you  she  can't  un- 
derstand a  word  of  Russian." 

"  One  can't  be  sure.  We  can  never  tell,  in 
these  days,  who  may  not  be — a  spy." 

There  was  a  stab  for  me!  But  I  would  not 
give  him  the  satisfaction  of  showing  that  it  hurt. 
He  wanted  to  confuse  me,  to  put  me  off  my 
guard ;  but  he  should  not. 

'  They  say  one  judges  others  by  one's  self,"  I 
laughed.  "  Count  Godensky,  if  you  throw  out 
such  lurid  hints  about  my  poor,  fat  Marianne,  I 


MAXINE   DRIVES  155 

shall  begin  to  wonder  if  it's  not  you  who  are  the 
spy! " 

"  Since  you  trust  your  woman  so  implicitly, 
then,"  he  went  on,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  you  want 
to  know.  The  document  I  speak  of  is  the  one 
you  took  out  of  the  Foreign  Office  the  other  day, 
when  you  called  on  your — friend,  Monsieur  le 
Vicomte  du  Laurier." 

"Dear  me!"  I  exclaimed.  "You  say  you 
want  to  be  my  friend,  yet  you  seem  to  think  I 
am  a  kleptomaniac.  I  can't  imagine  what  I 
should  want  with  any  dry  old  document  out  of 
the  Foreign  Office,  can  you? " 

"  Yes,  I  can  imagine,"  said  Godensky  drily. 

"  Pray  tell  me  then.  Also  what  document  it 
was.  For,  joking  apart,  this  is  rather  a  serious 
accusation." 

"  If  I  make  any  accusation,  it's  less  against 
you  than  du  Laurier." 

"  Oh,  you  make  an  accusation  against  him. 
Why  do  you  make  it  to  me?  " 

"  As  a  warning." 

"  Or  because  j^ou  don't  dare  make  it  to  any- 
one else." 

"Dare!  I  haven't  accused  him  thus  far,  be- 
cause to  do  so  would  brand  your  name  with  his." 

"  Ah !  "  I  said.     "  You  are  very  considerate." 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  considerate — except  of 
myself.  I've  waited,  and  held  my  hand  until 
now,  because  I  wanted  to  see  you  before  doing 
a  thing  which  would  mean  certain  ruin  for  du 


156    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

Laurier.  I  love  you  as  much  as  I  ever  did ;  even 
more,  because,  in  common  with  most  men,  I 
value  what  I  find  hard  to  get.  To-night  I  ask 
you  again  to  marry  me.  Give  me  a  different 
answer  from  that  you  gave  me  before,  and  I'll 
be  silent  about  what  I  know." 

;<  What  you  know  of  the  document  you  men- 
tioned ?  "  I  asked,  my  heart  'drumming  an  echo 
of  its  beating  in  my  ears. 

"  Yes." 

"  But — I  thought  you  said  that  its  loss  was 
already  discovered?"  (Oh,  I  was  keeping  my- 
self well  under  control,  though  a  mistake 
now  would  surely  cost  me  more  than  I  dared 
count!) 

For  half  a  second  he  was  taken  aback,  at  a 
loss  what  answer  to  make.  Half  a  second — no 
more;  yet  that  hardly  perceptible  hesitation  told 
me  what  I  had  been  playing  with  him  to  find 
out. 

"  Discovered  by  me,"  he  explained.  '  That  is, 
by  me  and  one  person  over  whom  I  have  such  an 
influence  that  he  will  use  his  knowledge,  or — 
forget  it,  according  to  my  advice." 

"  There  is  no  such  person,"  I  said  to  myself. 
But  I  didn't  say  it  aloud.  Quickly  I  named 
over  in  my  mind  such  men  in  the  French  For- 
eign Office  as  were  in  a  position  to  discover  the 
disappearance  of  any  document  under  Raoul 
du  Laurier's  charge.  There  were  several  who 
might  have  done  so,  some  above  Raoul  in  au- 


MAXINE   DRIVES  157 

thority,  some  below;  but  I  was  certain  that  not 
one  of  them  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Count 
Godensky's.  If  he  had  suspected  anything  the 
day  he  met  me  coming  out  of  the  Foreign  Office 
he  might,  of  course,  have  hinted  his  suspicions 
to  one  of  those  men  (though  all  along  I'd  be- 
lieved him  too  shrewd  to  risk  the  consequences, 
the  ridicule  and  humiliation  of  a  mistake)  :  but 
if  he  had  spoken,  it  would  be  beyond  his  power 
to  prevent  matters  from  taking  their  own  course, 
independent  of  my  decisions  and  his  actions. 

I  believed  now  that  what  I  had  hoped  was 
true.  He  was  "  bluffing."  He  wanted  me  to 
flounder  into  some  admission,  and  to  make  him 
a  promise  in  order  to  save  the  man  I  loved.  I 
was  only  a  woman,  he'd  argued,  no  doubt — an 
emotional  woman,  already  wrought  up  to  a  high! 
pitch  of  nervous  excitement.  Perhaps  he  had 
expected  to  have  easy  work  with  me.  And  I 
don't  think  that  my  silence  after  his  last  words 
discouraged  him.  He  imagined  me  writhing  at 
the  alternative  of  giving  up  Raoul  or  seeing  him 
ruined,  and  he  believed  that  he  knew  me  well 
enough  to  be  sure  what  I  would  do  in  the  end. 

'Well?"  he  said  at  last,  quite  gently. 

My  eyes  had  been  bent  on  my  lap,  but  I 
glanced  suddenly  up  at  him,  and  saw  his  face 
in  the  light  of  the  street  lamps  as  we  passed. 
Count  Godensky  is  not  more  Mephistophelian 
in  type  than  any  other  dark,  thin  man  with  a 
hook  nose,  keen  eyes,  heavy  browed ;  a  prominent 


158     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

chin  and  a  sharply  waxed,  military  moustache 
trained  to  point  upward  slightly  at  the  ends. 
But  to  my  fancy  he  looked  absolutely  devilish 
at  that  moment.  Still,  I  was  less  afraid  of  him 
than  I  had  been  since  the  day  I  stole  the 
treaty. 

"  Well,"  I  said  slowly,  "  I  think  it's  time  that 
you  left  me  now." 

'  That's  your  answer?    You  can't  mean  it." 
"  I  do  mean  it,  just  as  much  as  I  meant  to 
refuse  vou  the  three  other  times  that  you  did 

•/  •/ 

me  the  same  honour.  You  asked  me  to  hear 
what  you  had  to  say  to-night,  and  I  have  heard 
it ;  so  there's  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  press  the 
electric  bell  for  my  chauffeur  to  stop,  and " 

"Do  you  know  that  you're  pronouncing  du 
Laurier's  doom,  to  say  nothing  of  your  own?  " 

"  No.    I  don't  know  it." 

'  Then  I  haven't  made  myself  clear  enough." 

"  That's  true.  You  haven't  made  yourself 
clear  enough." 

"  In  what  detail  have  I  failed?    Because 

"  In  the  detail  of  the  document.  I've  told  you 
I  know  nothing  about  it.  You've  told  me  you 
know  everything.  Yet " 

"  So  I  do." 

"  Prove  that  by  saying  what  it  is — to  satisfy 
my  curiosity." 

"  I've  explained  why  I  can't  do  that — here." 

"  Then  why  should  you  stay  here  longer,  since 
that  is  the  point,  to  my  mind.  You  understood 


MAXINE   DRIVES  159 

before  you  came  into  my  carriage  that  I  had  no 
intention  of  letting  you  go  all  the  way  home  with 
me." 

Count  Godensky  suddenly  laughed.  And  the 
laugh  frightened  me — frightened  me  horribly, 
just  as  I  had  begun  to  have  confidence  in  myself, 
and  feel  that  I  had  got  the  best  of  the  game. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MAXINE  OPENS  THE  GATE  FOE  A  MAN 

'  You  are  afraid  that  du  Laurier  may  find 
out,"  he  said.    "  But  he  knows  already." 

"Knows  what?" 

;<  That  I  expected  to  have  the  privilege  of 
going  to  your  house  with  you." 

All   that    I    had   gained    seemed    worthless. 
Those    quiet,    sneering    words    of    his    almost 
crushed  me.     On  the  load  I  had  struggled  to 
bear  without  falling   they  laid  one  feather  too 
much. 

My  voice  broke.  "You — devil!"  I  cried  at 
him.  'You  dared  to  tell  Raoul  that?" 

Opposite,  on  her  narrow  little  seat,  Marianne 
stirred  uneasily.  Till  now  our  tones  had  been 
quiet,  and  she  could  not  understand  one  word 
we  said.  She  is  the  soul  of  discretion  and  a  tri- 
umph of  good  training  in  her  walk  of  life;  but 
she  loves  me  more  than  she  loves  any  other  crea- 
ture on  earth,  and  now  she  could  see  and  hear 
that  the  man  had  driven  me  to  the  brink  of 
hysterics.  She  would  have  liked  to  tear  his  face 
with  her  nails,  or  choke  him,  I  think.  If  I  had 
given  her  the  word,  I  believe  she  would  have 

160 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     161 

tried  with  all  her  strength — which  is  not  small — 
and  a  very  good  will,  to  kill  him.  I  was  dimly 
conscious  of  what  her  restlessness  meant,  and 
vaguely  comforted  too,  by  the  thought  of  her 
supreme  loyalty.  But  I  forgot  Marianne  when 
Godensky  answered  my  question. 

"  Yes,  I  told  him.  It  was  the  truth.  And  I've 
always  understood  that  you  made  a  great  point 
of  never  doing  anything  which  you  considered 
in  the  least  risque.  So  why  should  I  suppose 
you  would  rather  du  Laurier  didn't  know?  You 
might  already  have  mentioned  it  to  him." 

"  He  wouldn't  believe  you! "  I  exclaimed,  des- 
perately. And  my  only  hope  was  that  I  might 
be  right. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  didn't  seem  to  at 
first,  so  I  at  once  understood  that  you  hadn't 
spoken  of  our  appointment.  But  it  was  too  late 
to  atone  for  my  carelessness,  and  I  did  the  next 
best  thing:  justified  my  veracity.  I  suggested 
that,  if  he  didn't  take  my  word  for  it,  he  might 
stand  where  he  could  see  us  speaking  together 
at  the  stage  door,  and " 

"  Ah,  I  am  glad  of  that! "  I  cut  in.  "  Then  he 
saw  that  we  didn't  drive  away  together." 

"  You  jump  at  conclusions,  just  like  less 
clever  women.  I  hardly  thought  you'd  receive 
me  into  your  carriage  at  the  theatre,  so  I  took 
the  precaution  of  warning  du  Laurier  that  he 
needn't  expect  to  see  that.  You  would  suggest 
a  place  for  me  to  meet  you,  I  said.  When  I 


162     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

knew  it,  I  would  inform  him  if  he  chose  to  wait 
about  somewhere  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  Raoul  du  Laurier  would  scorn  to  spy  upon 
me! "  I  broke  out. 

"  How  hard  you  are  on  spies.  And  how  little 
knowledge  of  human  nature  you  have,  after  all, 
if  you  don't  understand  that  a  man  suddenly  out 
of  his  head  with  jealousy  will  do  things  of  which 
he'd  be  incapable  when  he  was  sane." 

The  argument  silenced  me.  I  knew — I  had 
known  for  a  long  time — that  jealousy  could 
rouse  a  demon  in  Raoul.  And  only  to-night  he 
had  reminded  me  that  he  was  a  "  jealous  brute." 
I  remembered  what  answer  he  had  made  when 
I  asked  him  what  he  would  do  if  I  deceived  him. 
He  said  that  he  would  kill  me,  and  kill  himself 
after.  As  he  spoke,  the  blood  had  streamed  up 
to  his  forehead,  and  streamed  back  again,  leaving 
him  pale.  A  flash  like  steel  had  shot  out  of 
his  eyes — the  dear  eyes  that  are  not  cold.  It 
was  true,  as  this  cruel  wretch  reminded  me, 
Raoul  would  do  things  under  the  torture  of 
jealousy  that  he  would  cut  off  his  hand  sooner 
than  do  when  his  own  sweet,  poet-nature  was  in 
ascendancy. 

"  As  a  proof  of  what  I  say,"  Godensky  went 
on>  "  du  Laurier  did  wait,  did  hear  from  me  the 
place  where  you  were  to  stop  and  pick  me  up. 
And  if  it  wouldn't  be  the  worst  of  form  to  bet, 
I'd  bet  that  he  found  some  way  of  getting  there 
in  time  to  see  that  I  had  told  the  truth." 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     163 

'You  coward!"  I  stammered. 

"  On  the  contrary,  a  brave  man.  I've  heard 
that  du  Laurier  is  a  fine  shot,  and  that  very  few 
men  in  Paris  can  touch  him  with  the  foils.  So 

you  see " 

'  You  want  to  frighten  me ! "  I  exclaimed. 
'  You  misjudge  me  in  every  way." 

My  only  answer  was  to  tell  Marianne  to  press 
the  button  which  gives  the  signal  for  my  chauf- 
feur to  stop.  Instantly  the  electric  carriage 
slowed  down,  then  came  to  a  standstill.  My  man 
opened  the  door  and  Count  Godensky  submitted 
to  my  will.  Nevertheless,  he  was  far  from  being 
in  a  submissive  mood,  as  I  did  not  need  to  be 
reminded  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  when  he  said 
"  au  revoir." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  polite  than  the 
words  or  his  way  of  speaking  them,  as  he  stood 
in  the  street  with  his  hat  in  his  hand.  But  to  me 
they  meant  a  threat,  and  as  a  threat  they  were 
intended. 

My  talk  with  Godensky  at  the  stage  door,  my 
pause  to  pick  him  up,  and  my  second  pause  to 
set  him  down,  had  all  taken  time,  of  which  I  had 
had  little  enough  at  the  starting,  if  I  were  to  meet 
Ivor  Dundas  when  he  arrived.  It  was  two  or 
three  minutes  after  midnight,  or  so  my  watch 
said,  wThen  we  drew  up  before  the  gate  of  my 
high-walled  garden  in  the  quiet  Rue  d'Hollande. 

A  little  while  ago  I  had  been  ready  to  seize 
upon  almost  any  expedient  for  keeping  Raoul 


164    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

away  from  my  house  to-night,  but  now,  after 
what  I  had  just  heard  from  Godensky,  I  prayed 
to  see  him  waiting  for  me. 

Nobody  (except  Ivor,  concerning  whom  I'd 
given  orders)  would  be  let  in  so  late  at  night, 
during  my  absence,  not  even  Raoul  himself;  so 
if  he  had  come  to  reproach  me,  or  break  with  me, 
he  would  have  to  stand  outside  the  locked  gate 
till  I  appeared.  I  looked  for  him  longingty,  but 
he  was  not  there.  There  was,  to  be  sure,  a  motor 
brougham  in  the  street,  for  a  wonder  (usually 
the  Rue  d'Hollande  is  as  empty  as  a  desert,  after 
eleven  o'clock),  but  a  girl's  face  peered  out  at 
me  from  the  window — an  impish,  curiously  ab- 
normal little  face  it  was — extinguishing  the 
spark  of  hope  that  sprang  to  life  as  I  caught 
sight  of  the  carriage. 

It  was  standing  before  the  closed  gate  of  a 
house  almost  opposite  mine,  and  the  girl  seemed 
somewhat  interested  in  me;  but  I  was  not  at  all 
interested  in  her,  and  I  hate  being  stared  at  as  if 
I  were  something  in  a  museum. 

The  gate  is  always  kept  locked  at  night,  when 
I'm  at  the  theatre;  but  Marianne  has  the  key, 
and  we  let  ourselves  in  when  we  come,  for  only 
old  Henri  sits  up,  and  he  is  growing  a  little  deaf. 
A  moment,  and  we  were  inside,  the  chauffeur 
spinning  away  to  the  garage. 

Usually  I  am  newly  delighted  every  night 
with  my  quaint  old  house  and  its  small,  but 
pretty  garden,  to  which  it  seems  delightful  to 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     165 

come  home  after  hours  of  hard  work  at  the  thea- 
tre. But  to-night,  though  a  cheerful  light  shone 
out  from  between  the  drawn  curtains  of  the  salon, 
the  place  looked  inexpressibly  dreary,  even  for- 
bidding, to  me.  I  felt  that  I  hated  the  house, 
though  I  had  chosen  it  after  a  long  search  for 
peacefulness  and  privacy.  How  gloomy,  how 
dead,  was  the  street  beyond  the  high  wall,  with 
all  its  windows  closed  like  the  eyes  of  corpses. 
There  was  a  moist,  depressing  smell  of  earth 
after  long-continued  rains,  in  the  garden.  No 
wonder  the  place  had  been  to  let  at  a  bargain,  for 
a  long  term!  There  had  been  a  murder  in  it 
once,  and  it  had  stood  empty  for  twelve  or  thir- 
teen of  the  fifteen  years  since  the  almost  forgot- 
ten tragedy.  I  had  been  the  tenant  for  two 
years  now — before  I  became  a  "  star,"  with  a 
theatre  of  my  own  in  Paris.  I  had  had  no  fear 
of  the  ghost  said  to  haunt  the  house.  Indeed,  I 
remembered  thinking,  and  saying,  that  the  story 
only  made  the  place  more  interesting.  But  now 
I  said  to  myself  that  I  wished  I  had  never 
spoken  so  lightly.  Perhaps  the  ghost  had 
brought  me  bad  luck.  I  felt  as  if  the  murder 
must  have  happened  on  just  such  a  still,  brood- 
ing, damp  night  as  this.  Maybe  it  was  the  anni- 
versary, if  I  only  knew. 

I  went  indoors,  Marianne  following.  Henri, 
very  thin,  very  precise,  withered  like  a  winter 
apple,  had  fallen  into  a  doze  in  the  hall,  where 
he  had  sat,  hoping  to  hear  the  stopping  of  my 


166    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

carriage.  He  rose  up,  bowing  and  blinking, 
just  as  he  had  done  often  before,  and  would 
often  again — if  life  were  to  go  on  for  me 
in  the  old  way.  He  regretted  not  having  heard 
Mademoiselle.  Would  Mademoiselle  take  sup- 
per? 

No,  Mademoiselle  would  not  take  supper. 
She  wanted  nothing,  and  Henri  might  go  to  bed. 

"  I  thank  Mademoiselle.  When  I  have  closed 
the  house." 

"  But  I  don't  want  the  house  closed,"  I  said. 
"  I  shall  sit  up  for  awhile.  It's  hot — close  and 
stuffy.  I  may  like  to  have  the  windows  open." 

'  The  visitor  Mademoiselle  expected  did  not 
arrive.  Perhaps " 

"If  he  comes,  Marianne  or  I  will  let  him  in. 
But  he  may  not  come,  now  it  is  so  late/' 

When  Henri  had  gone,  I  told  Marianne  that 
she  might  go,  too.  I  did  not  want  her  to  wait. 
If  the  person  I  had  expected  should  call,  it  was 
a  very  old  friend;  in  fact,  Mr.  Ivor  Dundas, 
whom  Marianne  must  remember  in  London. 
He  was  to  call — if  he  did  call — only  on  a  matter 
of  business,  which  would  take  but  a  few  minutes 
to  get  through,  and  possibly  he  would  not  even 
come  into  the  house.  If  the  gate-bell  rang,  I 
would  answer  it  myself,  and  speak  with  Mr. 
Dundas,  perhaps  in  the  garden.  Then  I  would 
let  him  out  and  come  straight  upstairs.  Mari- 
anne might  go  to  bed  if  she  wished. 

"  I  do  not  wish,  unless  Mademoiselle  particu- 


MAXINE    OPEXS    THE  GATE    167 

larly  desires  me  to  do  so,"  said  she.  "  I  do  not 
rest  well  when  I  have  not  been  allowed  to  un- 
dress Mademoiselle." 

"Sit  up,  then,  in  your  own  room,  and  wait 
there  for  me  till  I  ring  for  you,"  I  replied.  "  I 
shan't  be  late,  whether  Mr.  Dundas  comes  or 
doesn't  come." 

"  Supposing  the  gate-bell  should  ring,  and 
Mademoiselle  should  go,  yet  it  should  not  be  the 
Monsieur  she  expects,  but  another  person  whom 
she  would  not  care  to  admit?  " 

I  knew  of  what  she  was  thinking,  and  of 
whom. 

"  There's  no  fear  of  that.  No  fear  of  any 
kind,"  I  answered. 

She  took  off  my  cloak,  and  went  upstairs  re- 
luctantly, carrying  my  jewel  box. 

I  walked  into  the  drawing-room,  which  was 
lighted  and  looked  very  bright  and  charming, 
with  its  many  flowers  and  framed  photographs, 
and  the  delightful  Louis  Quinze  furniture, 
which  I  had  so  enjoyed  picking  up  here  and 
there  at  antique  shops  or  at  private  sales. 

I  flung  myself  on  the  sofa,  but  I  could  not 
rest.  In  a  moment  I  was  up  again,  moving 
about,  looking  at  the  clock,  comparing  it  with 
my  watch,  wondering  what  could  have  happened 
to  make  Ivor  fail  in  keeping  his  promise  to  be 
prompt  on  the  hour  of  twelve. 

Of  course,  a  hundred  harmless  things  might 
have  kept  him,  but  I  thought  only  of  the  worst, 


168    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

and  was  working  myself  up  to  a  frenzy  when 
at  last  I  heard  the  gate-bell.  I  had  been  in  the 
house  no  more  than  twelve  or  fourteen  minutes, 
but  it  seemed  an  hour,  and  I  gave  a  sob  of  relief 
as  I  rushed  out,  down  the  garden  path,  to  let  my 
visitor  in. 

Fumbling  a  little  at  the  lock,  always  a  little 
difficult  if  one  were  in  a  hurry,  I  asked  myself 
what  if,  as  Marianne  had  suggested,  it  were  not 
Ivor  Dundas,  but  someone  else — Raoul,  perhaps 
— or  the  man  who  had  been  in  her  mind :  Goden- 
sky. 

But  it  was  Ivor. 

''What  news?"  I  questioned  him,  my  voice 
sounding  queer  and  far  away  in  my  own  ears. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you'll  call  it  news  or 
not,  though  plenty  of  things  have  happened. 
I'm  awfully  sorry  to  be  late " 

I  wouldn't  let  him  finish,  standing  there,  but 
took  him  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  into  the  gar- 
den, pushing  the  gate  shut  behind  him  as  I  did 
so.  Yet  I  forgot  to  lock  it,  and  naturally  it  did 
not  occur  to  Ivor  that  it  ought  to  be  fastened. 

Once  inside,  in  the  garden,  I  was  going  to 
make  him  begin  again,  as  I  had  told  Marianne 
I  would.  But  suddenly  I  bethought  myself 
that  he  might  have  been  followed;  that  there 
might  be  watchers  behind  that  high  wall, 
watchers  who  would  try  to  be  listeners  too,  and 
whose  ears  would  be  very  different  from  old 
Henri's. 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     169 

"  Come  into  the  house,"  I  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
"before  you  begin  to  tell  anything."  Then, 
when  we  were  inside,  I  could  not  even  wait  for 
him  to  go  on  of  his  own  accord  and  in  his  own 
way. 

"  The  treaty?  "  I  asked.  "  Have  you  got  hold 
of  it?" 

"  Unfortunately,  no." 

"But  you've  heard  of  it?  Oh,  say  you've 
heard  something!" 

"  If  I  haven't,  it  isn't  because  I've  sat  down  and 
waited  for  news  to  come.  I  went  back  to  the 
Gare  du  Nord  after  you  left  me,  to  try  and  get 
on  the  track  of  the  men  who  travelled  with  me  in 
the  train  to  Dover.  But  I  was  sent  off  on  the 
wrong  scent,  and  wasted  a  lot  of  time,  worse 
luck — I'll  tell  you  about  it  later,  if  you  care  to 
hear  details.  Then,  when  that  game  was  up,  I 
did  what  I  wish  I'd  done  at  first,  found  out  and 
consulted  a  private  detective,  said  to  be  one  of 
the  best  in  Paris " 

'  You  told  your  story — my  story — to  a  detect- 
ive ? "  I  gasped. 

"  No.  Certainly  not.  I  said  I'd  lost  some- 
thing of  value,  given  me  by  a  lady  whose  name 
I  couldn't  bring  into  the  affair.  I  was  George 
Sandford,  too,  not  Mr.  Dundas.  I  described  my 
travelling  companions,  telling  all  that  happened 
on  the  way,  and  offered  big  pay  if  he  could  find 
them  quickly — especially  the  little  fellow.  He 
held  out  hopes  of  spotting  them  to-night,  so 


170    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

don't  be  desperate,  my  poor  girl.  The  detective 
chap  seemed  really  to  think  he'd  not  have  much 
difficulty  in  tracking  down  our  man;  and  even  if 
he's  parted  with  the  treaty,  we  can  find  out  what 

he's  done  with  it,  no  doubt.    Girard  says " 

"Girard!"  I  caught  Ivor  up.  "Is  your  de- 
tective's name  Anatole  Girard,  and  does  he  live 
in  Rue  du  Capucin  Blanc?  " 

*  Yes.    Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  know  too  much  of  him,"  I  answered  bit- 
terly. 

;<  Isn't  he  clever,  after  all?  " 

"  Far  too  clever.  I'd  rather  you  had  gone  to 
any  other  detective  in  Paris — or  to  none." 

;<  Why,  what's  wrong  with  him?  "  Ivor  began 
to  be  distressed. 

"  Only  that  he's  a  personal  friend  of  my  worst 
enemy — the  man  I  spoke  of  to  you  this  evening — 
Count  Godensky.  I've  heard  so  from  Godensky 
himself,  who  mentioned  the  acquaintance  once 
when  Girard  had  just  succeeded  in  a  case  every- 
body was  talking  about." 

"By  Jove,  what  a  beastly  coincidence!"  ex- 
claimed Ivor,  horribly  disappointed  at  having 
done  exactly  the  wrong  thing,  when  he  had  tried 
so  hard  to  do  the  right  one.  "  Yet  how  could  I 
have  dreamed  of  it?  " 

*  You    couldn't,"     I     admitted,     hopelessly. 
"  Nothing  is  your  fault.     All  that's  happened 
would  have  happened  just  the  same,  no  mat- 
ter   what    messenger    the    Foreign    Secretary 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     171 

had  sent  to  me.  It's  fate.  And  it's  my  punish- 
ment."* 

"  Still,  even  if  Godensky  and  Girard  are 
friends,"  Ivor  tried  to  console  me,  "  it  isn't  likely 
that  the  Count  has  talked  to  the  detective  about 
you  and  the  affair  of  the  treaty." 

"  He  may  have  gone  to  him  for  help  in  finding- 
out  things  he  couldn't  find  out  himself." 

"  Hardly,  I  should  say,  until  there'd  been  time 
for  him  to  fear  failure.  No,  the  chances  are  that 
Girard  will  have  no  inner  knowledge  of  the  mat- 
ter I've  put  into  his  hands ;  and  if  he's  a  man  of 
honour,  he's  bound  to  do  the  best  he  can  for  me, 
as  his  employer.  Have  you  seen  du  Laurier?" 

'  Yes.  At  the  theatre.  Nothing  bad  had  hap- 
pened to  him  yet;  but  that  brute  Godensky  has 
made  dreadful  mischief  between  us.  If  only  I'd 
known  that  you  would  be  so  late,  I  might  have 
explained  everything  to  him." 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  said  Ivor,  so  humbly  and  so 
sadly  that  I  pitied  him  (but  not  half  as  much  as 
I  pitied  myself,  even  though  I  hadn't  forgotten 
that  hint  he  had  let  drop  about  a  great  sacrifice 
— a  girl  he  loved,  whom  he  had  thrown  over, 
somehow,  to  come  to  me) .  "  I  made  every  effort 
to  be  in  time.  It  seems  a  piece  with  the  rest  of 
my  horrible  luck  to-day  that  I  was  prevented.  I 
hope,  at  least,  that  du  Laurier  knows  about  the 
necklace? " 

"  He  does,  by  this,"  I  answered.  "  Yet  I'm 
afraid  he  won't  be  in  a  mood  to  take  much  com- 


172    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

fort  from  it — thanks  to  that  wretch.  You  know 
Raoul  hasn't  a  practical  bone  in  his  body.  He 
will  think  I've  deceived  him,  and  nothing  else 

will  matter.  I  must "  But  I  broke  off,  and 

laid  my  hand  on  Ivor's  arm.  '  What's  that?  "  I 
whispered.  "  Did  you  hear  anything  then?  " 

Ivor  shook  his  head.    And  we  both  listened. 

"  It's  a  step  outside,  on  the  gravel  path,"  said 
I,  my  heart  beginning  to  knock  against  my  side. 
"  I  forgot  to  lock  the  gate.  Somebody  has  come 
into  the  garden.  What  if  it  should  be  Raoul — 
what  if  he  has  seen  our  shadows  on  the  curtain?  " 

Mechanically  we  moved  apart,  Ivor  making  a 
gesture  to  reassure  me,  on  account  of  the  position 
of  the  lights.  He  was  right.  Our  shadows 
couldn't  have  fallen  on  the  curtain. 

As  we  stood  listening,  there  came  a  knock  at 
the  front  door.  It  was  Raoul's  knock.  I  was 
sure  of  that. 

If  only  Ivor  had  arrived  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
earlier,  at  the  time  appointed,  I  should  have  hur- 
ried him  away  before  this,  so  that  I  might  write 
to  Raoul;  but  now  I  could  not  think  what  to  do 
for  the  best — what  to  do,  that  things  might  not 
be  made  far  worse  instead  of  better  between 
Raoul  and  me.  I  had  suffered  so  much  that  my 
power  of  quick  decision,  on  which  I'd  so  often 
prided  myself  vaingloriously,  seemed  gone. 

;'  It  is  Raoul,"  I  said.    "  What  shall  I  do? " 

"Let  him  in,  of  course,  and  introduce  me. 
Don't  act  as  if  you  were  afraid.  Say  that  I  came 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE  .GATE     173 

to  see  you  on  important  business  concerning  a 
friend  of  yours  in  England,  and  had  to  call  after 
the  theatre  because  I'm  leaving  Paris  by  the  first 
train  in  the  morning." 

"  No  use." 

;<  Why  not?  When  a  man  loves  a  woman,  he 
trusts  her." 

"  No  man  of  Latin  blood,  I  think.  And 
Raoul's  already  angry.  He  has  the  right  to  be 
—or  would  have,  if  Godensky  had  been  telling 
him  the  truth.  And  I  refused  to  let  him  come 
here.  I  said  I  was  going  straight  to  bed,  I  was 
so  tired.  He's  knocking  again.  Hide  yourself, 
and  I'll  let  him  in.  Oh,  why  do  you  stand  there, 
looking  at  me  like  that?  Go  into  that  room," 
and  I  pointed,  then  pushed  him  towards  the  door. 
'  You  can  get  through  the  window  and  out  of 
the  garden — softly — while  Raoul  and  I  are 
talking." 

"If  you  insist,"  said  Ivor.  "  But  you're 
wrong.  The  best  thing " 

"  Go — go,  I  tell  you.  Don't  argue.  I  know 
best,"  I  cut  him  short,  in  a  sharp  whisper,  push- 
ing him  again. 

This  time  he  made  no  more  objections,  but 
went  into  the  adjoining  room,  my  boudoir.  The 
key  was  in  the  door;  I  turned  it  in  the  lock, 
snatched  it  out,  and  dropped  it  into  a  bowl  of 
flowers  on  a  table  close  by.  That  done,  I  flew 
out  of  the  drawing-room  into  the  little  entrance 
hall,  and  opened  the  front  door. 


174     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

There  stood  Raoul,  his  face  dead  white,  and 
very  stern  in  the  light  of  the  hall  lamp.  I  had 
never  seen  him  like  that  before. 

"  I  know  why  you're  here,"  I  began  quickly, 
before  he  could  speak.  "  Count  Godensky  told 
me  what  he  said  to  you.  I — hoped  you  would 
come." 

"  Is  this  why  you  wished  to  know  what  I 
would  do  if  you  deceived  me?  "  he  asked,  with  the 
bitterest  reproach  in  eyes  and  voice. 

"  No.  For  I  hadn't  deceived  you,"  I  an- 
swered. "  I  haven't  deceived  you  now.  If  you 
loved  me,  you'd  believe  me,  Raoul." 

I  put  out  my  hand  and  took  his.  He  gave 
mine  no  pressure,  but  he  let  me  draw  him  into 
the  house. 

"  For  God's  sake,  give  me  back  my  faith  in 
you,  if  you  can,"  he  said.  "  It's  death  to  lose  it. 
I  came  here  wanting  to  die." 

"  After  you'd  killed  me,  as  you  said?  " 

"  Perhaps.  I  couldn't  keep  away.  I  had  to 
come.  If  you  have  any  explanation,  for  the  love 
of  Heaven,  tell  me  wThat  it  is." 

"  You  know  me,  and  you  know  Godensky — yet 
you  need  an  explanation  of  anything  evil  said  of 
me  by  him?"  In  this  way  I  hoped  to  disarm 
Raoul;  but  he  had  been  half-mad,  I  think,  and 
was  scarcely  sane  now,  such  a  power  had  jealousy 
over  his  better  self. 

"Don't  play  with  me!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
can't  bear  it.  You  sent  me  away.  Yet  you  had 


MAXIXE    OPENS    THE   GATE     175 

an  appointment  with  Godensky.  You  took  him 
into  your  carriage ;  and  now " 

"  Marianne  was  in  the  carriage.  If  I  could 
have  had  you  with  me,  I  should  have  packed  her 
off  by  herself,  alone,  that  I — might  be  alone  with 
you.  Oh,  Raoul,  it  isn't  possible  you  believe  that 
I  could  lie  to  you  for  Godensky's  sake — a  man 
like  that!  If  I'd  cared  for  him,  why  shouldn't 
I  have  accepted  him  instead  of  you?  Could  I 
have  changed  so  quickly,  do  you  think? " 

"  I  don't  think;  I'm  not  able  to  think.  I  can 
only  feel,"  he  answered. 

"  Then — feel  sure  that  I  love  you — no  man 
but  you — now  and  always." 

"Oh,  Maxine!"  he  stammered.  "Am  I  a 
fool,  or  wise,  to  let  myself  believe  you? " 

"  You  are  wise,"  I  answered,  as  firmly  as  if 
I  deserved  the  full  faith  I  was  claiming  from 
him  as  my  right.  "  If  you  wouldn't  believe,  with- 
out my  insisting,  without  my  explaining  and  de- 
fending myself,  I'd  tell  you  nothing.  But  you 
do  believe,  just  because  you  love  me — I  see  it 
in  your  face,  and  thank  God  for  it.  So  I'll  tell 
you  this.  Count  Godensky  hates  me,  because  I 
couldn't  and  wouldn't  love  him,  and  he  hates  you 

because  he  thinks  I  love  you.  He "  I  paused 

for  a  second.  A  wild  thought  had  flashed  like 
the  light  of  a  beacon  in  my  brain.  If  I  could  say 
something  now  which,  when  the  blow  fell — if  it 
did  fall — might  come  back  to  Raoul's  mind  and 
convince  him  instantly  that  it  was  Godensky,  not 


176    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

I,  who  had  stolen  the  treaty  and  broken  him!  If 
I  could  make  him  believe  the  whole  thing  a 
monstrous  plot  of  Godensky's  to  revenge  him- 
self on  a  woman  who'd  refused  him,  by  cleverly 
implicating  her  in  her  lover's  ruin,  by  throwing 
guilt  upon  her  while  she  was,  in  reality,  innocent ! 
If  I  could  suggest  that  to  Raoul  now,  while  his 
ears  were  open,  I  might  hold  his  love  against  the 
world,  no  matter  what  happened  afterward. 

It  was  a  mad  idea  and  a  wicked  one,  perhaps ; 
but  I  was  at  my  wits'  end  and  desperate. 
Though  not  guilty  of  this  one  crime  which  I 
would  shift  upon  his  shoulders  if  I  could,  as  a 
means  of  escaping  from  the  trap  he'd  helped  to 
set,  Godensky  was  capable  of  it,  and  guilty  of 
others,  I  was  sure,  which  had  never  been  brought 
home  to  him.  I  believed  that  he,  too,  was  a  spy, 
just  as  I  was;  and  far  worse,  because  if  he  were 
one  he  betrayed  his  own  country,  while  I  never 
had  done  that,  never  would. 

All  these  thoughts  rushed  through  my  head  in 
a  second;  and  I  think  that  Raoul  could  hardly 
have  noticed  the  pause  before  I  began  to  speak 
again. 

"  He — Godensky — would  do  anything  to  part 
you  and  me,"  I  said.  '  There's  no  plot  too 
sly  and  vile  for  him  to  conceive  and  carry  out 
against  me — and  you.  No  lie  too  base  for  him 
to  tell  you — or  others — about  me.  He  sent  me  a 
letter  at  the  theatre — soon  after  you'd  left  me 
the  first  time.  In  it,  he  said  that  I  must  give 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     177 

him  a  few  minutes  after  the  play,  unless  I  wanted 
some  dreadful  harm  to  come  to  you — something 
concerning  your  career.  That  frightened  me, 
though  I  might  have  guessed  it  was  only  a  trick. 
Indeed,  I  did  guess,  but  I  couldn't  be  sure,  so  I 
saw  him.  I  didn't  want  you  to  know — I  tell  you 
that  frankly,  Raoul.  Because  I'd  told  you  not 
to  come  home  with  me,  I  hoped  you  wouldn't 
find  out  that  I  meant  to  let  Count  Godensky 
drive  part  of  the  way  back  with  me  and  Mari- 
anne. I  ran  the  risk,  and — the  very  thing  hap- 
pened which  I  ought  to  have  known  would  hap- 
pen. As  for  what  he  had  to  tell  me,  it  was 
nothing ;  only  vague  hints  of  trouble  from  which 
he,  as  one  of  an  inner  circle,  might  save  you,  if  I 
— would  be  grateful  enough." 

:'  The  scoundrel! "  broke  out  Raoul,  convinced 
now,  his  eyes  blazing.  "  I'll " 

He  stopped  suddenly.  But  I  knew  what  had 
been  on  his  lips  to  say.  He  meant  to  send  a 
challenge  to  Count  Godensky.  I  must  prevent 
him  from  doing  that. 

"  No,  Raoul,"  I  said,  as  if  he  had  finished  his 
sentence,  "  you  musn't  fight.  For  my  sake,  you 
mustn't.  Don't  you  see,  it's  just  what  he'd  like 
best?  It  would  be  a  way  of  doing  me  the  most 
dreadful  injury.  Think  of  the  scandal.  Oh, 
you  will  think  of  it,  when  you're  cooler.  For  you, 
I  would  not  fear  much,  for  I  know  what  a 
swordsman  you  are,  and  what  a  shot — far  supe- 
rior to  Godensky,  and  with  right  on  your  side. 


178     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

But  I  would  fear  for  myself.  Promise  you  won't 
bring  this  trouble  upon  me." 

"  I  promise,"  he  answered.  "  Oh,  my  darling, 
what  wouldn't  I  promise  you,  to  atone  for  my 
brutal  injustice  to  an  angel?  How  thankful  I 
am  that  I  came  to  you  to-night !  I  meant  not  to 
come.  I  was  afraid  of  myself,  and  what  I  might 
do.  But  at  last  I  couldn't  hold  out  against  the 
something  that  seemed  forcing  me  here  in  spite 
of  all  resistance.  Do  you  forgive  me?" 

"  As  a  reward  for  your  promise,"  I  said,  smil- 
ing at  him  through  tears  that  would  come  be- 
cause I  was  worn  out,  and  because  I  knew  that 
it  was  I  who  needed  his  forgiveness,  not  he  mine. 
"Now  are  you  happy  again?"  I  asked. 

'  Yes,  I'm  happy,"  he  said.  '  Though  on  the 
way  to  this  house  I  didn't  dream  that  it  would  be 
possible  for  me  to  know  happiness  any  more  in 

this  world.  And  even  at  your  gate "  He 

stopped  suddenly,  and  his  face  changed.  I 
waited  an  instant,  but  seeing  that  he  didn't  mean 
to  go  on,  I  could  not  resist  questioning  him.  I 
had  to  know  what  had  happened  at  my  gate. 

"  Even  at  the  gate— what?  "  I  asked. 

"Nothing.  I'm  sorry  I  spoke.  I  want  to 
show  you  how  completely  I  trust  you  now,  by  not 
speaking  of  that." 

But  this  reticence  of  his  only  made  me  more 
anxious  to  hear  what  he  had  been  going  to  say. 
I  was  afraid  that  I  could  guess.  But  I  must  have 
it  from  his  lips,  and  be  able  to  explain  away  the 


MAXIXE    OPENS    THE   GATE     179 

mystery  which,  when  it  recurred  to  him  in  the 
future,  might  make  him  doubt  me,  even  though  in 
this  moment  of  exaltation  he  did  not  doubt. 

"Yes>  speak  of  it,"  I  said.  "All  the  more 
because  it  is  nothing.  For  it  can  be  nothing." 

"  I  want  to  punish  myself  for  asking  an  ex- 
planation about  Godensky,  by  not  allowing  you 
to  explain  this  other  thing,"  insisted  poor,  loyal, 
repentant  Raoul.  "  Then — at  the  time — it  made 
all  the  rest  seem  worse,  a  thousand  times  worse. 
But  I  saw  through  black  spectacles.  Now  I  see 
through  rose-coloured  ones." 

"  I'd  rather  you  saw  through  your  own  dear 
eyes,  without  any  spectacles.  You  must  tell  me 
what  you're  thinking  of,  dear.  For  my  own 
sake,  if  not  yours." 

"  Well — if  you  will  know.  But,  remember, 
darling,  I'm  going  to  put  it  out  of  my  mind. 
I'll  ask  you  no  questions,  I'll  only — tell  you  the 
thing  itself.  As  I  said,  I  didn't  come  here  di- 
rectly after  seeing  Godensky  get  into  your  car- 
riage. I  wandered  about  like  a  madman — and  I 
thought  of  the  Seine." 

"  Oh — you  must  indeed  have  been  mad! " 

"  I  was.  But  that  something  saved  me — the 
something  that  drove  me  to  find  you.  I  walked 
here,  by  roundabout  ways,  but  always  coming 
nearer  and  nearer,  as  if  being  drawn  into  a 
whirlpool.  At  last,  I  was  in  this  street,  on  the 
side  opposite  your  house.  I  hadn't  made  up  my 
mind  yet  that  I  would  try  to  see  you.  I  didn't 


180    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

know  what  I  would  do.  I  stood  still,  and  tried  to 
think.  It  was  very  black,  in  the  angle  between 
two  garden  walls  where  the  big  plane  tree  sprouts 
up,  you  know.  Nobody  who  didn't  expect  to 
find  a  man  would  have  noticed  me  in  the  dark- 
ness. I  hadn't  been  there  for  two  minutes  when 
a  man  turned  the  corner,  walking  very  fast.  As 
he  passed  the  street  lamp  just  before  reaching 
the  garden  wall,  I  saw  him  plainly — not  his  face, 
but  his  figure,  and  he  was  young  and  well  dressed, 
in  travelling  clothes.  I  thought  he  looked  like 
an  Englishman.  He  went  straight  to  your  gate 
and  rang.  A  moment  later  someone,  I  couldn't 
see  who,  opened  the  gate  and  let  him  in.  Invol- 
untarily I  took  a  step  forward,  with  the  idea  of 
following — of  pushing  my  way  in  to  see  who  he 
was  and  who  had  opened  the  gate.  But  I  wasn't 
quite  mad  enough  to  act  like  a  cad.  The  gate 
shut.  Oh,  Maxine,  there  were  evil  and  cruel 
thoughts  in  my  mind,  I  confess  it  to  you — but 
how  they  made  me  suffer!  I  stood  as  if  I  were 
turned  to  stone,  and  I  only  wished  that  I  might 
be,  for  a  stone  knows  no  pain.  Just  then  a  motor 
cab  going  slowly  along  the  street  stopped  in 
front  of  your  gate.  There  were  two  women  in 
it.  I  could  see  them  by  the  light  of  the  street 
lamp,  though  not  as  plainly  as  I'd  seen  the  man, 
and  they  appeared  to  be  arguing  very  excitedly 
about  something.  Whatever  it  was,  it  must  have 
been  in  some  wray  concerned  with  you,  or  your 
affairs,  because  they  were  tremendously  inter- 


MAXINE   OPENS   THE  GATE    181 

.ested  in  the  house.  They  both  looked  out,  and  one 
pointed  several  times.  Even  if  I'd  intended  to 
go  in,  I  wouldn't  have  gone  while  they  were  there. 
But  the  very  fact  that  they  were  there  roused  me 
out  of  the  kind  of  lethargy  of  misery  I'd  fallen 
into.  I  wondered  who  they  were,  and  if  they 
meant  you  harm  or  good.  When  they  had  driven 
away  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  see  you  if 
I  could.  I  tried  the  gate,  and  found  it  unlocked. 
I  wralked  in,  and — there  wrere  lights  in  these  win- 
dows. I  knew  you  couldn't  have  gone  to  bed  yet, 
though  you'd  said  you  were  so  tired.  There  was 
death  in  my  heart  then,  for  you  and  for  me, 
Maxine,  for — the  gate  hadn't  opened  again, 
and " 

"  I  know  what  you  thought ! "  I  broke  in,  my 
heart  beating  so  now  that  my  voice  shook  a  lit- 
tle, though  I  struggled  to  seem  calm.  '  You 
said  to  yourself, '  It  was  Maxine  who  let  the  man 
in.  He  is  with  her  now.  I  shall  find  them  to- 
gether.' " 

"  Yes,"  Raoul  admitted.  "  But  I  didn't  try 
the  handle  of  the  door,  as  I  had  of  the  gate.  I 
rang.  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to  take  you 
unawares." 

"  Do  you  think  still  that  I  let  a  man  in,  and 
hid  him  when  I  heard  you  ring?  "  I  asked.  (For 
an  instant  I  was  inclined  to  tell  the  story  Ivor 
had  advised  me  to  tell;  but  I  saw  how  excited 
Raoul  was ;  I  saw  how,  in  painting  the  picture  for 
me,  he  lived  through  the  scene  again,  and,  in 


182     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

spite  of  himself,  suffered  almost  as  keenly  as  he 
had  suffered  in  the  experience.  I  saw  how  his 
suspicions  of  me  came  crawling  into  his 
heart,  though  he  strove  to  lash  them  back.  I 
dared  not  bring  Ivor  out  from  the  other  room, 
if  he  were  still  there.  He  was  too  handsome,  too 
young,  too  attractive  in  every  way.  If  Raoul 
had  been  jealous  of  Count  Godensky,  whom  he 
knew  I  had  refused,  what  would  he  feel  towards 
Ivor  Dundas,  a  stranger  whose  name  I  had  never 
mentioned,  though  he  was  received  at  my  house 
after  midnight?  I  was  thankful  I  hadn't  taken 
Ivor's  advice  and  introduced  the  two  men  at 
first,  for  in  his  then  mood  Raoul  would  have 
listened  to  no  explanations.  He  and  I  would 
never  have  arrived  at  the  understanding  we  had 
reached  now.  And  not  having  been  frank  at 
first,  I  must  be  secret  to  the  end. ) 

The  very  asking  of  such  a  bold  question—  "  Do 
you  think  I  let  a  man  in,  and  hid  him? "  helped 
my  cause  with  Raoul. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  think  it.  I  won't,  and 
don't  think  it.  And  you  need  tell  me  nothing. 
I  love  you.  And  so  help  me  God,  I  won't  distrust 
you  again ! " 

Just  as  it  entered  my  mind  to  risk  everything 
on  the  chance  that  Ivor  had  by  this  time  found 
his  way  out,  I  heard,  or  fancied  I  heard,  a  faint 
sound  in  the  next  room.  He  was  there  still. 

Instead  of  throwing  open  the  door,  as  it  had 
occurred  to  me  to  do,  saying,  "  Let  us  look  for 


MAXINE    OPENS    THE   GATE     183 

the  man,  and  make  sure  no  one  else  let  him  in," 
I  laughed  out  abruptly,  as  if  on  a  sudden 
thought,  but  really  to  cover  the  sound  if  it  should 
come  again. 

"  Oh,  Raoul! "  I  exclaimed,  in  the  midst  of  the 
laughter  with  which  I  surprised  him.  '  You're 
taking  this  too  seriously.  A  thousand  times  I 
thank  you  for  trusting  me  in  spite  of  appear- 
ances, but — after  all,  were  they  so  much  against 
me?  You  seem  to  think  I  am  the  only  young 
woman  in  this  house.  Marianne,  poor  dear,  is 
old  enough,  it's  true.  But  I  have  a  femme  de 
chambre  and  a  cuisiniere,  both  under  twenty- 
five,  both  pretty,  and  both  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried." (This  was  true.  Ah,  what  a  comfort 
to  speak  the  truth  to  him!)  "  Doesn't  it  occur  to 
you  that,  at  this  very  moment,  a  couple  of  lovers 
may  be  sitting  hand  in  hand  on  the  seat  under 
the  old  yew  arbour?  Can't  you  imagine  how 
they  started  and  tried  to  hold  their  breath  lest 
you  should  hear,  as  you  opened  the  gate  and 
came  up  the  path? " 

"Forgive  me!"  murmured  Raoul,  in  the 
depths  of  remorse  again. 

"  Shall  we  go  and  look,  or  shall  we  leave  them 
in  peace?" 

"  Leave  them  in  peace,  by  all  means." 
'  The  man  will  be  slipping  away  soon,  no 
doubt.     Both  Therese  and  Annette  are  good  lit- 
tle girls." 

"  Don't  let's  bother  about  them.     You  will 


be  sending  me  away  soon,  too,  and  I  shall  deserve 

it.     Brute  that  I  am.     You  were  so  tired,  and 
j » 

"  Oh,  I'm  better  now,"  I  said.  "  Of  course  I 
must  send  you  away  by  and  by,  but  not  quite 
yet.  First,  I  want  to  ask  if  you  weren't  glad 
when  you  saw  the  jewels?  " 

"Jewels?"  echoed  Raoul.     "What  jewels?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  haven't  yet 
opened  the  little  bag  I  gave  you  at  the  theatre? " 
I  exclaimed. 

Raoul  looked  half  ashamed.  "  Dearest,  don't 
think  me  ungrateful,"  he  said,  "but  before  I 
had  a  chance  to  open  it  I  met  Godensky,  and  he 
told  me — that  lie.  It  lit  a  fire  in  my  brain.  I 
forgot  all  about  the  bag,  and  haven't  thought  of 
it  again  till  this  minute." 

At  last  I  laughed  with  sincerity.  "  Oh,  Raoul, 
Raoul,  you're  not  fit  for  this  work-a-day  world  1 
Well,  I'm  glad,  after  all,  that  I  shall  be  with 
you,  when  you  see  what  that  little  insignificant 
bag  which  you've  forgotten  all  this  time  has  in 
it.  Take  it  out  of  your  pocket,  and  let's  open 
it  together." 

For  the  moment  I  was  almost  happy ;  and  that 
Raoul  would  be  happy,  I  knew. 

His  hand  went  to  the  inner  pocket  of  his  coat, 
into  which  I  had  seen  him  put  the  brocade  bag. 
But  it  did  not  come  out  again.  It  groped;  and 
his  face  flushed.  "  Good  heavens,  Maxine,"  he 
said,  "  I  hope  you  weren't  in  earnest  when  you 


MAXINE  OPENS  THE  GATE       185 

told  me  that  bag  held  something  very  valuable 
to  us  both,  for  I've  lost  it.  You  know,  I've  been 
almost  mad.  I  had  my  handkerchief  in  that 
pocket.  I  must  have  pulled  it  out,  and " 

My  knees  seemed  to  give  way  under  me.  I 
half  fell  onto  a  sofa. 

"  Raoul,"  I  said,  in  a  queer  stifled  voice,  "  the 
bag  had  in  it  the  Duchess  de  Montpellier's  dia- 
monds." 


IVOR  DUNDAS'   PART 


CHAPTER   XII 

IVOR  GOES  INTO  THE  DARK 

NEVER  had  I  been  caught  in  a  situation  which 
I  liked  less  than  finding  myself,  long  after  mid- 
night, locked  by  Maxine  de  Renzie  into  her 
boudoir,  while  within  hearing  she  did  her  best 
to  convince  her  lover  that  no  stranger  had  come 
on  her  account  to  the  house. 

I  had  never  before  visited  her  in  Paris,  though 
she  had  described  her  little  place  there  to  me 
when  we  knew  each  other  in  London;  and  in 
groping  about  trying  to  find  another  door  or  a 
window  in  the  dark  room,  I  ran  constant  risks 
of  making  my  presence  known  by  stumbling 
against  the  furniture  or  knocking  down  some 
ornament. 

I  dared  not  strike  a  match  because  of  the 
sharp,  rasping  noise  it  would  make,  and  I  had  to 
be  as  cautious  as  if  I  were  treading  with  bare 
feet  on  glass,  although  I  knew  that  Maxine  was 
praying  for  me  to  be  out  of  the  house,  and  I  was 
es  far  from  wishing  to  linger  as  she  was  to  have 
me  stay.  Only  by  a  miracle  did  I  save  myself 
once  or  twice  from  upsetting  a  chair  or  a  tall 
vase  of  flowers,  on  my  way  to  a  second  door 
which  was  locked  on  the  other  side. 

189 


190    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

At  last,  however,  I  discovered  a  window,  and 
congratulated  myself  that  my  trouble  and  Max- 
ine's  danger  was  nearly  over.  The  room  being 
on  the  ground  floor,  though  rather  high  above  the 
level  of  the  garden,  I  thought  that  I  could  easily 
let  myself  down.  But  when  I  had  slipped 
behind  the  heavy  curtains  (they  were  drawn,  and 
felt  smooth,  like  satin)  it  was  only  to  come  upon 
a  new  difficulty. 

The  window,  which  opened  in  the  middle  like 
most  French  windows,  was  tightly  closed,  with 
the  catch  securely  fastened;  and  as  I  began 
slowly  and  with  infinite  caution  to  turn  the 
handle,  I  felt  that  the  window  was  going  to  stick. 
Perhaps  the  wood  had  been  freshly  painted :  per- 
haps it  had  swelled;  in  any  case  I  knew  that 
when  the  two  sashes  consented  to  part  they  would 
make  a  loud  protest. 

After  the  first  warning  squeak  I  stopped. 
In  the  next  room  Maxine  raised  her  voice — to 
cover  the  sound,  I  was  sure.  Then  it  had  been 
worse  even  than  I  fancied!  I  dared  not  begin 
again.  I  would  grope  about  once  more,  and 
see  if  I  could  hit  upon  some  other  way  out,  which 
possibly  I  had  missed. 

No,  there  was  nothing.  No  other  window, 
except  a  small  one  which  apparently  communi- 
cated with  a  pantry,  and  even  if  that  had 
not  seemed  too  small  for  me  to  climb  through, 
it  was  fastened  on  the  pantry  side. 

What  to  do  I  did  not  know.     It  would  be  a 


IVOR   GOES    INTO    THE   DARK     191 

calamity  for  Maxine  if  du  Laurier  should  hear 
a  sound,  and  insist  on  having  the  door  opened, 
after  she  had  given  him  the  impression  (if  she 
had  not  said  it  in  so  many  words)  that  there 
was  no  stranger  in  the  house. 

Probably  she  hoped  that  by  this  time  I  was 
gone;  but  how  could  I  go?  I  felt  like  a  rat  in 
a  trap:  and  if  I  had  been  a  nervous  woman  I 
should  have  imagined  myself  stifling  in  the  small, 
hot  room  with  its  closed  doors  and  windows.  As 
it  was,  I  was  uncomfortable  enough.  My  fore- 
head grew  damp,  as  in  the  first  moments  of  a 
Turkish  bath,  and  absent  mindedly  I  felt  in 
pocket  after  pocket  for  my  handkerchief.  It 
was  not  to  be  found.  I  must  have  lost  it  at  the 
hotel,  or  the  detective's,  or  in  the  automobile  I 
had  hired.  In  an  outside  pocket  of  my  coat, 
however,  I  chanced  upon  something  for  the 
existence  of  which  I  couldn't  account.  It  was 
a  very  small  something :  only  a  bit  of  paper,  but 
a  very  neatly  folded  bit  of  paper,  and  I  remem- 
bered how  it  had  fallen  from  my  pocket  onto  the 
floor,  and  a  gendarme  had  picked  it  up. 

At  ordinary  times  I  should  most  likely  not 
have  given  it  a  second  thought;  but  to-night 
nothing  unexpected  could  be  dismissed  as  insig- 
nificant until  it  had  been  thoroughly  examined. 
I  put  the  paper  back,  and  as  I  did  so  I  heard 
Maxine  give  an  exclamation,  apparently  of  dis- 
tress. I  could  not  distinguish  all  she  said,  but  I 
thought  that  I  caught  the  word  "  diamonds." 


192     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

For  a  moment  or  two  she  and  du  Laurier 
talked  together  so  excitedly  that  I  might  have 
made  another  attack  on  the  window  without 
great  risk;  and  I  was  meditating  the  attempt 
when  suddenly  the  voices  ceased.  A  door 
opened  and  shut.  There  was  dead  silence,  ex- 
cept for  a  footfall  overhead,  which  sounded 
heavier  than  Maxine's.  Perhaps  it  was  her 
maid's. 

For  a  few  seconds  more  I  stood  still,  await- 
ing developments,  but  there  was  no  sound  in 
the  next  room,  and  I  decided  to  take  my  chance 
before  it  should  be  too  late. 

I  jerked  at  the  window,  which  yielded  with  a 
loud  squeak  that  would  certainly  have  given 
away  the  secret  of  my  presence  if  there  had 
been  ears  to  hear.  But  all  was  still  in  the  draw- 
ing-room adjoining,  and  I  dropped  down  on 
to  a  flower  bed  some  few  feet  below.  Then  I 
skirted  round  to  the  front  of  the  house,  walking 
stealthily  on  the  soft  grass,  and  would  have 
made  a  noiseless  dash  for  the  gate  had  I  not 
seen  a  stream  of  light  flowing  out  through  the 
open  front  door  across  the  lawn.  I  checked  my- 
self just  in  time  to  draw  back  without  being 
seen  by  a  wroman  and  a  tall  man  moving  slowly 
down  the  path.  They  were  Maxine  and,  no 
doubt,  du  Laurier.  They  spoke  not  a  word,  but 
walked  with  their  heads  bent,  as  if  deeply  ab- 
sorbed in  searching  for  something  on  the 
ground. 


IVOR    GOES    INTO    THE   DARK     193 

Down  to  the  gate  they  went,  opened  it  and 
passed  out,  only  half  closing  it  behind  them,  so 
that  I  knew  they  meant  presently  to  come  back 
again. 

I  should  have  been  thankful  to  escape,  but  the 
chance  of  meeting  them  was  too  imminent.  Ac- 
cordingly I  waited,  and  it  was  well  I  did,  for 
as  they  reappeared  in  three  or  four  minutes  they 
could  not  have  gone  far  enough  to  be  out  of 
sight  from  the  gate. 

"  There's  witchcraft  in  it,"  Maxine  said,  as 
she  and  her  lover  passed  within  a  few  yards  of 
me,  where  I  hid  behind  a  little  arbour. 

Du  Laurier's  answer  was  lost  to  me,  but  his 
voice  sounded  despondent.  Evidently  they  had 
mislaid  something  of  importance  and  had  small 
hope  of  finding  it  again.  I  could  not  help  being 
curious,  as  well  as  sorry  for  Maxine  that  a  fur- 
ther misfortune  should  have  befallen  her  at  such 
a  time.  But  the  one  and  only  way  in  which  I 
could  help  her  at  the  moment  was  to  get  away 
as  soon  as  possible. 

They  had  left  the  gate  unlocked,  and  I  drew 
in  a  long  breath  of  relief  when  I  was  on  the 
other  side.  I  hurried  out  of  the  street,  lest  du 
Laurier  should,  by  any  chance,  follow  on 
quickly:  and  my  first  thought  was  to  go  imme- 
diately back  to  my  hotel,  where  Girard  might  by 
now  have  arrived  with  news.  I  was  just  ready 
to  hail  a  cab  crawling  by  at  a  distance,  when  I 
remembered  the  bit  of  paper  I'd  found  and  put 


194     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

back  into  my  pocket.  It  occurred  to  me  to  have 
a  look  at  it,  by  the  light  of  a  street  lamp  near  by; 
and  the  instant  I  had  straightened  out  the  small, 
crumpled  wad  I  guessed  that  here  was  a  link 
in  the  mystery. 

The  paper  was  a  leaf  torn  from  a  note-book 
and  closely  covered  on  both  sides  with  small, 
uneven  writing  done  with  a  sharp  black  pencil. 
The  handwriting  was  that  of  an  uneducated  per- 
son, and  was  strange  to  me.  I  could  not  make 
out  the  words  by  the  light  of  the  tall  lamp,  so  I 
lit  a  wax  match  from  my  match-box,  and  pro- 
tecting the  flame  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand, 
began  studying  the  strange  message. 

The  three  first  words  sent  my  heart  up  with 
a  bound.  "  On  board  the  *  Queen.' '  I  had 
crossed  the  Channel  in  the  "  Queen,"  and  this 
beginning  alone  was  enough  to  make  me  hope 
that  the  bit  of  paper  might  do  more  than  any 
detective  to  unravel  the  mystery. 

"  I'm  taking  big  risks  because  I've  got  to,"  I 
read  on.  "  It's  my  only  chance.  And  if  you 
find  this,  I  bet  I  can  trust  you.  You're  a  gentle- 
man, and  you  saved  my  life  and  a  lot  more  be- 
sides by  getting  into  that  railway-carriage  when 
the  other  chaps  did.  The  minute  I  seen  them  I 
thot  I  was  done  for,  but  you  stopped  there  game. 
I'm  a  jewler's  assistant,  carrying  property  worth 
thousands,  for  my  employers.  From  the  first  I 
knew  'twas  bound  to  be  a  ticklish  job.  On  this 


IVOR   GOES    INTO    THE   DARK     195 

bote  I'm  safe,  for  the  villions  who  would  have 
murdered  and  robbed  me  in  the  train  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  being  there,  won't  have  a  chance, 
but  when  I  get  to  Paris  it  will  be  the  worst,  and 
no  hope  for  the  jewls,  followed  as  I  am,  if  I 
hadn't  already  thot  of  a  plan  to  save  them 
through  you,  an  honest  gentleman  far  above 
temptashun.  I  know  who  you  are,  for  I've 
seen  your  photo  in  the  papers.  So,  what  I  did 
was  this:  to  try  a  ventriloquist  trick  which  has 
ofFen  bin  of  use  in  my  carere,  just  as  folks  were 
on  the  boat's  gangway.  Thro'  making  that  dis- 
turbance, and  a  little  skill  I  have  got  by  doing 
amatoor  conjuring  to  amuse  my  wife  and  famly, 
I  was  able  to  slip  the  case  of  my  employer's 
jewls  into  your  breast  pocket  without  your 
knowing.  And  I  had  to  take  away  what  you 
had  in,  not  that  I  wanted  to  rob  one  who  had 
done  good  by  me,  but  because  if  I'd  left  it  the 
double  thickness  would  have  surprised  you  and 
you  would  probably  have  pulled  out  my  case  to 
see  what  it  was.  Then  my  fat  would  have  bin 
in  the  fire,  with  certin  persons  looking  on,  and 
you  in  danger  as  well  as  me  which  wouldn't  be 
fare.  I've  got  your  case  in  my  pocket  as  I 
write,  but  I  won't  open  it  because  it  may  have 
your  sweetart's  letters  in.  You  can  get  your 
property  again  by  bringing  me  my  master's, 
which  is  fare  exchange.  I  can't  call  on  you,  for 
I  don't  know  where  your  going  and  daren't  hang 
round  to  see  on  account  of  the  danger  I  run, 


196     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

and  needing  to  meet  a  pal  of  mine  who  will  help 
me.  I  must  get  to  him  at  once,  if  I  am  spared 
to  do  so,  for  which  reason  I  wrote  out  this  ex- 
planashun.  The  best  I  can  do  is  to  slip  it  in 
your  pocket  which  I  shall  try  when  in  the  rail- 
way stashun  at  Paris.  You  see  how  I  trust  you 
as  a  gentleman  to  bring  me  the  jewls.  Come  as 
soon  as  you  can,  and  get  your  own  case  instead, 
calling  at  218  Rue  Fille  Sauvage,  Avenue  Morot, 
back  room,  top  floor,  left  of  passage.  Express- 
ing my  gratitood  in  advance, 
"  I  am, 

'  Yours  trustfully, 
"  J.  M.    Jeweler's  Messenger. 
"  P.  S. — For  heaven's  sake  don't  f  ale,  and  ask 
the  concerge  for  name  of  Gestre." 

If  it  had  not  been  for  my  rage  at  not  having 
read  this  illuminating  little  document  earlier,  I 
should  have  felt  like  shouting  with  joy.  As  it 
was,  my  delight  was  tempered  with  enough  of 
regret  to  make  it  easier  to  restrain  myself. 

But  for  the  fear  that  du  Laurier  might  be 
still  with  Maxine,  I  should  have  rushed  back  to 
her  house  for  a  moment,  just  long  enough  to 
give  her  the  good  news.  But  in  the  circum- 
stances I  dared  not  do  it,  lest  she  should  curse 
instead  of  bless  me:  and  besides,  as  there  was 
still  a  chance  of  disappointment,  it  might  be  bet- 
ter in  any  case  not  to  raise  her  hopes  until  there 
was  no  danger  of  dashing  them  again. 


IVOR   GOES   INTO    THE   DARK     197 

The  best  thing  was  to  get  the  treaty  back, 
without  a  second  of  delay.  As  for  the  detective, 
who  was  perhaps  waiting  for  me  at  the  hotel, 
he  would  have  to  wait  longer,  or  even  go  away 
disgusted — nothing  made  much  difference  now. 
Maybe,  when  once  I  had  the  treaty  in  my  hands, 
I  might  send  a  messenger  with  a  few  cautious 
words  to  Maxine.  No  matter  how  late  the  hour, 
she  was  certain  not  to  be  asleep. 

The  cab  I  had  seen  crawling  through  the 
street  had  disappeared  long  ago,  and  no  other 
was  in  sight,  so  I  walked  quickly  on,  hoping  to 
find  one  presently.  It  was  now  so  late,  however, 
that  in  this  quiet  part  of  Paris  no  carriages  of 
any  sort  were  plying  for  hire.  Finally  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  should  have  to  go  aU  the  way 
on  foot ;  but  I  knew  the  direction  of  the  Avenue 
Morot,  though  I'd  never  heard  of  Rue  de  la 
Fille  Sauvage,  and  as  it  was  not  more  than  two 
miles  to  walk,  I  could  reach  the  house  I  wanted 
to  find  in  half  an  hour. 

A  few  minutes  more  or  less  ought  not  to 
matter  much,  since  "  J.  M."  was  sure  to  be 
awaiting  me  with  impatience;  therefore  the 
thing  which  bothered  me  most  was  the  effect 
likely  to  be  produced  on  the  man  when  I  could 
not  hand  him  over  the  diamonds  in  exchange  for 
the  treaty. 

Of  course  I  didn't  believe  that  "  J.  M."  was 
a  jeweller's  messenger,  though  possibly  I  might 
have  been  less  incredulous  if  Maxine  had  not 


198     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

told  me  the  true  history  of  the  diamonds,  and 
M-hat  had  happened  in  Holland.  As  it  was,  I 
had  very  little  doubt  that  the  rat  of  a  man  I  had 
chanced  to  protect  in  the  railway  carriage  was 
no  other  than  the  extraordinarily  expert  thief 
who  had  relieved  du  Laurier  of  the  Duchess's 
necklace. 

Following  out  a  theory  which  I  worked  up  as 
I  walked,  I  thought  it  probable  that  the  fellow 
had  been  helped  by  confederates  whom  he  had 
contrived  to  dodge,  evading  them  and  sneaking 
off  to  London  in  the  hope  of  cheating  them  out 
of  their  share  of  the  spoil.  Followed  by  them, 
dreading  their  vengeance,  I  fancied  him  flitting 
from  one  hiding-place  to  another,  not  daring  to 
separate  himself  from  the  jewels;  at  last  de- 
termining to  escape,  disguised,  from  England, 
where  the  scent  had  become  too  hot ;  reserving  a 
first-class  carriage  in  the  train  to  Dover,  and 
travelling  with  a  golfer's  kit;  struck  with  panic 
at  the  last  moment  on  seeing  the  very  men  he 
fled  to  avoid,  close  on  his  heels,  and  opening 
the  door  of  his  reserved  carriage  with  a  railway 
key. 

All  this  was  merely  deduction,  for  so  far  as  I 
had  seen,  "  J.  M.'s "  travelling  companions 
hadn't  even  accosted  him.  Still,  the  theory  ac- 
counted for  much  that  had  been  puzzling,  and 
made  it  plausible  that  a  man  should  be  desperate 
enough  to  trust  his  treasure  to  a  stranger 
(known  only  through  "  photos  in  the  newspa- 


pers  ")  rather  than  risk  losing  it  to  those  he  had 
betrayed. 

I  resolved  to  use  all  my  powers  of  diplomacy 
to  extract  from  "  J.  M."  the  case  containing  the 
treaty  before  he  learned  that  he  was  not  to  re- 
ceive the  diamonds  in  its  place;  and  I  had  no 
more  than  vaguely  mapped  out  a  plan  of  pro- 
ceeding before  I  arrived  in  the  Avenue  Morot. 
Thence  I  soon  found  my  way  into  the  Rue  de 
la  Fille  Sauvage,  a  mean  street,  to  which  the 
queer  name  seemed  not  inappropriate.  The 
house  I  had  to  visit  was  an  ugly  big  box  of  a 
building,  with  rooms  advertised  to  let,  as  I  could 
see  by  the  light  of  a  street  lamp  across  the  way, 
which  gleamed  bleakly  on  the  lines  of  shut  win- 
dows behind  narrow  iron  balconies. 

The  large  double  doors,  from  which  the  paint 
had  peeled  in  patches,  were  closed,  but  I  rang 
the  bell  for  the  concierge;  and  after  a  delay  of 
several  minutes  I  heard  a  slight  click  which 
meant  that  the  doors  had  opened  for  me.  I 
passed  into  a  dim  lobby,  to  be  challenged  by  a 
sleepy  voice  behind  a  half  open  window.  The 
owner  of  the  voice  kept  himself  invisible  and 
was  no  doubt  in  the  bunk  which  he  called  his 
bed.  Only  a  stern  sense  of  duty  as  concierge 
woke  him  up  enough  to  demand,  mechanically, 
who  it  was  that  the  strange  monsieur  desired  to 
visit  at  this  late  hour? 

I  replied  according  to  instructions.  I  wished 
to  see  Monsieur  Gestre. 


200     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  Monsieur  Gestre  is  away,"  murmured  the 
voice  behind  the  little  window. 

I  thought  quickly.  Gestre  was  probably  the 
"  pal "  whom  "  J.  M."  had  been  in  such  a  hurry 
to  find.  "  Very  well,"  said  I,  "  I'll  see  his  friend, 
the  Englishman  who  arrived  this  evening.  I 
have  an  appointment  with  him." 

"Ah,  I  understand.  I  remember.  Is  it  not 
that  Monsieur  has  been  here  already?  He  now 
returns,  as  he  mentioned  that  he  might  do? " 

Again  my  thoughts  made  haste  to  arrange 
themselves.  The  "  monsieur "  who  had  called 
had  probably  also  arrived  late,  after  the  con- 
cierge had  gone  to  bed  in  his  dim  box,  and  be- 
come too  drowsy  to  notice  such  details  as  the 
difference  between  voices,  especially  if  they  were 
those  of  foreigners.  Perhaps  if  I  explained 
that  I  was  not  the  person  wrho  had  said  he  would 
come  again,  but  another,  the  man  behind  the 
window  would  consider  me  a  complication,  and 
refuse  to  let  me  pass  at  such  an  hour  without  a 
fuss.  And  of  all  things,  a  fuss  was  what  I  least 
wanted — for  Maxine's  sake,  and  because  of  the 
treaty.  I  decided  to  sieze  upon  the  advantage 
that  was  offered  me. 

"  Quite  right,"  I  said  shortly.  "  I  know  the 
way."  And  so  began  to  mount  the  stairs. 
Flight  after  flight  I  went  up,  meeting  no  one; 
and  on  the  fifth  floor  I  found  that  I  had  reached 
the  top  of  the  house.  There  were  no  more  stairs 
to  go  up. 


IVOR   GOES    INTO    THE   DARK     201 

On  each  of  the  floors  below  there  had  been  a 
dim  light — a  jet  of  gas  turned  low.  But  the 
fifth  floor  was  in  darkness.  Someone  had  put 
out  the  light,  either  in  carelessness  or  for  some 
special  reason. 

There  were  several  doors  on  each  side  of  the 
passage,  but  I  could  not  be  sure  that  I  had 
reached  the  right  one  until  I'd  lighted  a  match. 
When  I  was  sure,  I  knocked,  but  no  answer 
came. 

"  He  can't  be  out,"  I  said  to  myself,  cheer- 
fully. "  He's  got  tired  of  waiting  and  dropped 
asleep,  that's  all." 

I  knocked  again.  Silence.  And  then  for  a 
third  time,  loudly,  keeping  on  until  I  was  sure 
that,  if  there  were  anyone  in  the  room,  no  mat- 
ter how  sound  asleep,  I  must  have  waked  him. 

After  all,  he  had  gone  out,  but  perhaps  only 
for  a  short  time.  Surely,  he  would  soon  come 
back,  lest  he  should  miss  the  keeper  of  the  dia- 
monds. 

I  had  very  little  hope  that,  even  on  the  chance 
of  my  arriving  while  he  was  away,  he  would  have 
left  the  door  open.  Nevertheless  I  tried  the 
handle,  and  to  my  surprise  it  yielded. 

"  That  must  be  because  the  lock's  broken  and 
only  a  bolt  remains,"  I  thought.  "  So  he  had  to 
take  the  risk.  All  the  better.  This  looks  as  if 
he'd  be  back  any  minute.  He  wouldn't  like 
giving  the  enemy  a  chance  to  find  his  lair  and 
step  into  it  before  him." 


202     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

It  was  dark  in  the  room,  and  I  struck  another 
wax  match  just  inside  the  threshold.  But  I  had 
hardly  time  to  get  an  impression  of  bareness 
and  meanness  of  furnishing  before  a  draught 
of  air  from  an  open  window  blew  out  the  strug- 
gling flame  and  at  the  same  instant  banged  the 
door  shut  behind  me. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IVOR   FINDS   SOMETHING   IN   THE   DARK 

THERE  was  a  strong  smell  of  paraffin  oil  in 
the  room;  and  from  somewhere  at  the  far  end 
came  a  faint  tap,  tapping  sound,  which  might 
be  the  light  knocking  of  a  window-blind  or  the 
rap  of  a  signalling  finger. 

If  I  could  steer  my  way  to  the  window  and 
pull  back  the  drawn  curtains  I  might  be  able 
to  let  in  light  enough  to  find  matches  on  mantel- 
piece or  table.  Then,  what  good  luck  if  I 
should  discover  the  case  containing  the  treaty 
and  go  off  with  it  before  "  J.  M."  came  back! 
It  was  not  his,  and  he  was  a  thief:  therefore,  I 
should  be  doing  him  no  wrong  and  Maxine 
de  Renzie  much  good  by  taking  it,  if  he  had 
left  it  behind,  not  too  well  hidden  when  he  went 
out. 

Guided  in  the  darkness  by  a  slight  breeze 
which  still  came  through  the  window,  though  the 
door  was  now  shut,  I  shuffled  across  the  uncar- 
peted  floor,  groping  with  hands  held  out  before 
me  as  I  moved. 

In  a  moment  I  brushed  against  a  table,  then 
struck  my  shin  on  something  which  proved  to  be 

203 


204    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

the  leg  of  a  chair  lying  over-turned  on  the  floor. 
I  pushed  it  out  of  the  way,  but  had  gone  on  no 
more  than  three  or  four  steps  when  I  caught  my 
foot  in  a  rug  which  had  got  twisted  in  a  heap 
round  the  fallen  chair.  I  disentangled  myself 
from  its  coils,  only  to  slip  and  almost  lose  my 
balance  by  stepping  into  some  spilled  liquid 
which  lay  thick  and  greasy  on  the  bare  boards. 

The  warm  hopefulness  which  I  had  brought 
into  this  dark,  silent  room  was  chilled  and  dying 
now. 

"  I'm  afraid  there's  been  a  struggle  here,"  I 
thought.  And  if  there  had  been  a  struggle — 
what  of  the  treaty? 

There  seemed  to  be  a  good  deal  of  the  spilled 
liquid,  for  as  I  felt  my  way  along,  more  anxious 
than  ever  for  light,  the  floor  was  still  wet  and 
slippery;  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  the  puddle,  I 
stumbled  over  a  thing  that  was  heavy  and  soft 
to  the  touch  of  my  foot. 

A  queer  tingling,  like  the  sting  of  a  thousand 
tiny  electric  needles  prickled  through  my  veins, 
for  even  before  I  stooped  and  laid  my  hand  on 
that  barrier  which  was  so  heavy  and  yet  so  soft 
as  it  stopped  my  path,  I  knew  what  it  would 
prove  to  be. 

It  was  as  if  I  could  see  through  the  dark,  to 
what  it  hid.  But  though  there  was  no  surprise 
left,  there  was  a  shock  of  horror  as  my  fingers 
touched  an  arm,  a  throat,  an  upturned  face. 


IVOR   FINDS    SOMETHING      205 

And  my  fingers  were  wet,  as  I  knew  my  boots 
must  be.  And  I  knew,  too,  with  what  they  were 
wet. 

I'm  ashamed  to  say  that,  after  the  first  shock 
of  the  discovery,  my  impulse  was  to  get  away, 
and  out  of  the  whole  business,  in  which,  for 
reasons  wrhich  concerned  others  even  more  than 
myself,  it  wrould  be  unpleasant  to  be  involved, 
just  at  this  time  especially.  I  could  go  down- 
stairs now,  past  the  sleeping  concierge,  and  with 
luck  no  one  need  ever  know  that  I  had  been  in 
this  dark  room  of  death. 

But  as  quickly  as  the  impulse  came,  it  went. 
I  must  stop  here  and  search  for  the  treaty,  no 
matter  what  happened,  until  I  had  found  it  or 
made  sure  it  was  not  to  be  found;  I  must  not 
think  of  escape.  If  there  were  matches  in  the 
room,  well  and  good ;  if  not,  I  must  go  elsewhere 
for  them,  and  come  back.  It  was  a  grim  task, 
but  it  had  to  be  done. 

Somehow,  I  got  to  the  mantelpiece;  and  there 
luckily,  among  a  litter  of  pipes  and  bottles  and 
miscellaneous  rubbish,  I  did  lay  my  hand  on  a 
broken  cup  containing  a  few  matches.  I  struck 
one,  which  showed  me  on  the  mantel  an  end  of 
a  candle  standing  up  in  a  bed  of  its  own  grease. 
I  lighted  it,  and  not  until  the  flame  was  burning 
brightly  did  I  look  round. 

There  was  but  a  faint  illumination,  yet  it  was 
enough  to  give  me  the  secret  of  the  room.  I 


might  have  seen  all  at  a  glance  as  I  came  in,  be- 
fore the  light  of  my  last  match  was  blown  out 
by  the  wind,  had  not  the  door  as  I  opened  it 
formed  a  screen  between  me  and  the  dead  man 
on  the  floor. 

He  lay  in  the  midst  of  the  wildest  confusion. 
In  falling,  he  had  dragged  with  him  the  cover  of 
a  table,  and  a  glass  lamp  which  was  smashed  in 
pieces,  the  spilled  oil  mingling  with  the  stream 
of  his  blood.  A  chair  had  been  overturned,  and 
a  broken  plate  and  tumbler  with  the  tray  that 
had  held  them  were  half  hidden  in  the  folds  of  a 
disordered  rug. 

But  this  was  not  all.  The  struggle  for  life 
did  not  account  for  the  condition  of  other  parts 
of  the  room.  Papers  were  scattered  over  the 
floor:  the  drawers  of  an  old  escritoire  had  been 
jerked  out  of  place  and  their  contents  strewn 
far  and  near.  The  doors  of  a  wardrobe  were 
open,  and  a  few  shabby  coats  and  pairs  of 
trousers  thrown  about,  with  the  pockets  wrong 
side  out  or  torn  in  rags.  A  chest  of  drawers 
had  been  ransacked,  and  a  narrow,  hospital  bed 
stripped  of  sheets  and  blankets,  the  stuffing  of 
the  mattress  pulled  into  small  pieces.  The  room 
looked  as  if  a  whirlwind  had  swept  through  it, 
and  as  I  forced  myself  to  go  near  the  body  I 
saw  that  it  had  not  been  left  in  peace  by  the 
murderer.  The  blood-stained  coat  was  open,  the 
pockets  of  the  garments  turned  out,  like  those 
in  the  wardrobe,  and  all  the  clothing  disarranged. 


IVOR   FINDS    SOMETHING      207 

evidently  by  hands  which  searched  for  something 
with  frenzied  haste  and  merciless  determination. 

The  cunning  forethought  of  the  wretched  man 
had  availed  him  nothing.  I  could  imagine  how 
joyously  he  had  arrived  at  this  house,  believing 
that  he  had  outwitted  the  enemy.  I  pictured  his 
disappointment  on  not  finding  the  friend  who 
could  have  helped  and  supported  him.  I  saw 
how  he  had  planned  to  defend  himself  in  case 
of  siege,  by  locking  and  bolting  the  door  (both 
lock  and  bolt  were  broken)  ;  I  fancied  him 
driven  by  hunger  to  search  his  friend's  quarters 
for  food,  and  fearfully  beginning  a  supper  in 
the  midst  of  which  he  had  probably  been  inter- 
rupted. Almost,  I  could  feel  the  horror  with 
which  he  must  have  trembled  when  steps  came 
along  the  corridor,  when  the  door  was  tried  and 
finally  broken  in  by  force  without  any  cry  of 
his  being  heard.  I  guessed  how  he  had  rushed 
to  the  window,  opened  it,  only  to  stare  down  at 
the  depths  below  and  return  desperately,  to 
stand  at  bay;  to  protest  to  the  avengers  that  he 
had  not  the  jewels;  that  he  had  been  deceived; 
that  he  was  innocent  of  any  intention  to  defraud 
them;  that  he  would  explain  all,  make  anything 
right  if  only  they  would  give  him  time. 

But  they  had  not  given  him  time.  They  had 
punished  him  for  robbing  them  of  the  diamonds 
by  robbing  him  of  his  life.  They  had  made  him 
pay  with  the  extreme  penalty  for  his  treach- 
ery; and  yet  in  the  flickering  candle-light  the 


208     THE  POWERS  AND  MAXIXE 

stricken  face,  blood-spattered  though  it  was, 
seemed  to  leer  slyly,  as  if  in  the  knowledge 
that  they  had  been  cheated  in  the  end. 

The  confusion  of  the  room  promised  badly 
for  my  hopes,  nevertheless  there  was  a  chance 
that  the  murderers,  intent  only  on  finding  the 
diamonds  or  some  letters  relating  to  their  dis- 
posal, might,  if  they  found  the  treaty,  have 
hastily  flung  it  aside,  as  a  thing  of  no  value. 

Though  the  corridors  of  the  house  were  lit 
by  gas,  this  room  had  none,  and  the  lamp  being 
broken,  I  had  to  depend  upon  the  bit  of  candle 
which  might  fail  while  I  still  had  need  of  it.  I 
separated  it  carefully  from  its  bed  of  grease  on 
the  mantel,  and  as  I  did  so  the  wavering  light 
touched  my  hand  and  shirt  cuff.  Both  were 
stained  red,  and  I  turned  slightly  sick  at  the 
sight.  There  was  blood  on  my  brown  boots,  too, 
and  the  grey  tweed  clothes  which  I  had  not  had 
time  to  change  since  arriving  in  Paris. 

I  told  myself  that  I  must  do  my  best  to  wash 
away  these  tell-tale  stains  before  leaving  the 
room;  but  first  I  would  look  for  the  treaty. 

I  began  my  search  by  stirring  up  the  mass  of 
scattered  papers  on  the  floor,  and  in  spite  of  the 
horror  which  gripped  me  by  the  throat,  I  cried 
"  hurrah!  "  when,  half  hidden  by  the  twisted  rug, 
I  saw  the  missing  letter-case.  It  was  lying 
spread  open,  back  uppermost,  and  there  came 
an  instant  of  despair  when  I  pounced  on  it  only 
to  find  it  empty.  But  there  was  the  treaty  on 


53*88,. 


<• 


The  treaty  must  not  be  found  on  me.     Yet  I  must  hide  it." — Page  209 


IVOR   FINDS    SOMETHING      209 

the  floor  underneath;  and  lucky  it  was  that  the 
searchers  had  thrown  it  out,  for  there  were 
gouts  of  blood  on  the  letter-case,  while  the  treaty 
was  clean  and  unspotted. 

With  a  sense  of  unutterable  relief  which  al- 
most made  up  for  everything  endured  and  still 
to  be  endured,  I  slipped  the  document  back  into 
the  pocket  from  which  it  had  been  stolen. 

At  that  moment  a  board  creaked  in  the  cor- 
ridor, and  then  came  a  step  outside  the  door. 

My  blood  rushed  up  to  my  head.  But  it  was 
not  of  myself  I  thought;  it  was  of  the  treaty. 
If  I  were  to  be  caught  here,  alone  with  the  dead 
man,  my  hands  and  clothing  stained  with  his 
blood,  I  should  be  arrested.  The  treaty  must  not 
be  found  on  me.  Yet  I  must  hide  it,  save  it.  I 
made  a  dash  for  the  window,  and  once  outside, 
standing  on  the  narrow  balcony,  I  threw  the 
candle-end  into  the  room,  aiming  for  the  fire- 
place. Faint  starlight,  sifting  through  heavy 
clouds,  showed  me  a  row  of  small  flower-pots 
standing  in  a  wooden  box.  Hastily  I  wrapped 
the  treaty  in  a  towel  which  hung  over  the  iron 
railing,  lifted  out  two  of  the  flower-pots  (in 
which  the  plants  were  dead  and  dry),  laid  the 
flat  pafcel  I  had  made  in  the  bottom  of  the  box, 
and  replaced  the  pots  to  cover  and  conceal  it. 
Then  I  walked  back  into  the  room  again.  A 
hand,  fumbling  at  the  handle  of  the  door,  pushed 
it  open  with  a  faint  creaking  of  the  hinges. 
Then  the  light  of  a  dark  lantern  flashed. 


DIANA    FORREST'S    PART 


DIANA  TAKES  A   MIDNIGHT  DRIVE 

SOME  people  apparently  understand  how  to 
be  unhappy  gracefully,  as  if  it  were  a  kind  of 
fine  art.  I  don't.  It  seems  too  bad  to  be  true 
that  I  should  be  unhappy,  and  as  if  I  must  wake 
up  to  find  that  it  was  only  a  bad  dream. 

I  suppose  I've  been  spoiled  a  good  deal  all  my 
life.  Everybody  has  been  kind  to  me,  and  tried 
to  do  things  for  my  pleasure,  just  as  I  have  for 
them;  and  I  have  taken  things  for  granted — 
except,  of  course,  with  Lisa.  But  Lisa  is  differ- 
ent—different  from  everyone  else  in  the  world. 
I  have  never  expected  anything  from  her,  as  I 
have  from  others.  All  I've  wanted  was  to  make 
her  as  happy  as  such  a  poor,  little,  piteous 
creature  could  be,  and  to  teach  myself  never  to 
mind  anything  that  she  might  say  or  do. 

But  Ivor — to  be  disappointed  in  him,  to  be 
made  miserable  by  him!  I  didn't  know  it  was 
possible  to  suffer  as  I  suffered  that  day  he  went 
off  and  left  me  standing  in  the  railway-station. 
I  didn't  dream  then  of  going  to  Paris.  If  any- 
body had  told  me  I  would  go,  I  should  have  said, 
"  No,  no,  I  will  not."  And  yet  I  did.  I  al- 

213 


214     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

lowed  myself  to  be  persuaded.  I  tried  to  make 
myself  think  that  it  was  to  please  Aunt  Lilian; 
but  down  underneath  I  knew  all  the  time  it 
wasn't  that,  really.  It  was  because  I  couldn't 
bear  to  do  the  things  I'm  accustomed  to  doing 
every  day.  I  felt  as  if  I  should  cry,  or  scream, 
or  do  something  ridiculous  and  awful  unless 
there  were  a  change  of  some  sort — any  change, 
but  if  possible  some  novelty  and  excitement, 
with  people  talking  to  me  every  minute. 

Perhaps,  too,  there  was  an  attraction  for  me 
in  the  thought  that  I  would  be  in  Paris  while 
Ivor  wras  there.  I  kept  reminding  myself  on 
the  boat  and  the  train  that  nothing  good  could 
happen;  that  Ivor  and  I  could  never  be  as  we 
had  been  before;  that  it  was  all  over  between  us 
for  ever  and  ever,  and  through  his  fault.  But, 
there  at  the  bottom  was  the  thought  that  I  might 
have  done  him  an  injustice,  Because  he  had 
begged  me  to  trust  him,  and  I  wouldn't.  Just 
suppose — something  in  myself  kept  on  saying — 
that  wre  should  by  mere  chance  meet  in  Paris, 
and  he  should  be  able  to  prove  that  he  hadn't 
come  for  Maxine  de  Renzie's  sake!  It  would 
be  too  glorious.  I  should  begin  to  live  again — 
for  already  I'd  found  out  that  life  without  lov- 
ing and  trusting  Ivor  wasn't  life  at  all. 

He  couldn't  think  I  had  followed  him,  even 
if  he  did  see  me  in  Paris,  because  I  would  be  with 
iny  Aunt  and  Uncle,  and  Lord  Robert  West; 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  be  very  nice  to  Lord 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        215 

Bob,  much  nicer  than  I  ever  had  been,  if  Ivor 
happened  to  run  across  us  anywhere. 

Then  that  very  thing  did  happen,  in  the 
strangest  and  most  unexpected  way,  but  instead 
of  being  happier  for  seeing  him,  I  was  ten  times 
more  unhappy  than  before — for  now  the  misery 
had  no  gleam  of  hope  shining  through  its 
blackness. 

That  was  what  I  told  myself  at  first.  But 
after  we  had  met  in  the  hall  of  the  hotel,  and 
Ivor  had  seemed  confused,  and  wouldn't  give  up 
his  mysterious  engagement,  or  say  what  it  was, 
though  Lisa  chaffed  him  and  he,  must  have 
known  what  I  thought,  I  suddenly  forgot  the 
slight  he  had  put  upon  me.  Instead  of  being 
angry  with  him,  I  was  afraid  for  him,  I  couldn't 
have  explained  why,  unless  it  was  the  look  on  his 
face  when  he  turned  awray  from  me.  ' 

No  man  would  look  like  that  who  was  going 
of  his  own  free  will  to  a  woman  with  whom  he 
was  in  love,  that  same  queer  something  whis- 
pered in  my  ear.  Instead  of  feeling  sick  and 
sorry  for  myself  and  desperately  angry  with 
him,  it  was  Ivor  I  felt  sorry  for. 

I  pretended  not  to  care  whether  he  stayed  or 
went,  and  talked  to  Lord  Robert  West  as  if 
I'd  forgotten  that  there  was  such  a  person  as 
Ivor  Dundas.  I  even  turned  my  back  on  him  be- 
fore he  was  gone.  Still  I  seemed  to  see  the 
tragic  look  in  his  eyes,  and  the  dogged  set  of  his 
jaw.  It  was  just  as  if  he  were  going  away  from 


216    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

me  to  his  death ;  and  his  face  was  like  that  of  the 
man  in  Millais'  picture  of  the  Huguenot  Lovers. 
I  wondered  if  that  girl  had  been  broken-hearted 
because  he  wouldn't  let  her  tie  round  his  arm  the 
white  scarf  that  might  have  saved  him. 

It  is  strange  how  one's  mood  can  change  in  a 
moment — but  perhaps  it  is  like  that  only  with 
women.  A  minute  before  I'd  been  trying  to 
despise  Ivor,  and  to  argue,  just  as  if  I'd  been 
a  match-making  mamma,  to  myself  that  it  would 
be  a  very  good  thing  if  I  could  make  up  my 
mind  to  marry  Lord  Bob;  that  it  would  be 
rather  nice  being  a  Duchess  some  day;  and  that 
besides,  perhaps  Ivor  would  be  sorry  when  he 
heard  that  I  was  engaged  to  somebody  else. 

But  then,  as  I  said,  quite  suddenly  it  was  as 
if  a  sharp  knife  had  been  stuck  into  my  heart 
and  turned  round  and  round.  I  would  have 
given  anything  to  run  after  Ivor  to  tell  him  that 
I  loved  him  dreadfully  and  would  trust  him  in 
spite  of  all. 

*  You  look  as  pale  as  if  you  were  going  to 
faint,"  said  Lisa,  in  her  little  high-keyed  voice, 
which,  though  she  doesn't  speak  loudly,  always 
reaches  to  the  farthest  corners  of  the  biggest 
rooms. 

I  did  think  it  was  unkind  of  her  to  call  every- 
one's attention  to  me  just  then,  for  even 
strangers  heard,  and  turned  to  throw  a  glance 
at  me  as  they  passed. 

"  It  must  be  the  light,"  I  said,  "  for  I  don't 


DIANA   TAKES   A   DRIVE       217 

feel  in  the  least  faint."  That  was  a  fib,  because 
when  you  are  as  miserable  as  I  was  at  that  min- 
ute your  heart  feels  cold  and  heavy,  as  though 
it  could  hardly  go  on  beating.  But  I  felt  that 
if  ever  a  fib  were  excusable,  that  one  wTas.  "  I'rn 
a  little  tired,  though,"  I  went  on.  "  None  of 
us  got  to  bed  till  after  three  last  night;  and  this 
day,  though  very  nice  of  course,  has  been  rather 
long.  I  think,  if  you  don't  mind,  Aunt  Lil, 
I'll  go  straight  to  my  room  when  we  get  up- 
stairs." 

We  all  went  up  together  in  the  lift,  but  I  said 
good-night  to  the  others  at  the  door  of  the  pretty 
drawing-room  at  the  end  of  Uncle  Eric's 
suite. 

"  Shan't  I  come  with  you?"  asked  Lisa,  but 
I  said  "  no."  It  was  something  new  for  her  to 
offer  to  help  me,  for  she  isn't  very  strong,  and 
has  always  been  the  one  to  be  petted  and  watched 
over  by  me,  though  she's  a  few  years  older  than 
I  am. 

Aunt  Lilian  had  brought  her  maid,  without 
whom  she  can't  get  on  even  for  a  single  night, 
but  Lisa  and  I  had  left  ours  at  home,  and  Aunt 
Lil  had  offered  to  let  Morton  help  us  as  much 
as  we  liked.  I  hadn't  been  shut  up  in  my  room 
for  two  minutes,  therefore,  when  Morton 
knocked  to  ask  if  she  could  do  anything.  But  I 
thanked  her,  and  sent  her  away. 

I  had  not  yet  begun  to  undress,  but  was  stand- 
ing in  the  window,  looking  along  the  Champs 


218     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

liJlysees,  brilliant  still  with  electric  lights,  and 
full  of  carriages  and  motor-cars  bringing  people 
home  from  theatres  and  dinner-parties,  or  taking 
them  to  restaurants  for  supper. 

Down  there  somewhere  was  Ivor,  going  far- 
ther away  from  me  every  moment,  though  last 
night  at  about  this  time  he  had  been  telling  me 
how  he  loved  me,  how  I  was  the  One  Girl  in  the 
world  for  him,  and  always,  always  would  be. 
Here  was  I,  remembering  in  spite  of  myself 
every  word  he  had  said,  hearing  again  the  sound 
of  his  voice  and  seeing  the  look  in  his  eyes  as  he 
said  it.  There  was  he,  going  to  the  woman  for 
whose  sake  he  had  been  willing  to  break  with 
me. 

But  was  he  going  to  her?  I  asked  myself.  If 
not,  when  they  had  chaffed  him  he  might  easily 
have  mentioned  what  his  engagement  really 
was,  knowing,  as  he  must  have  known,  exactly 
how  he  made  me  suffer. 

Still — why  had  he  looked  so  miserable,  if  he 
didn't  care  what  I  thought,  and  was  really  ready 
to  throw  me  over  at  a  call  from  her?  The  whole 
thing  began  to  appear  more  complicated,  more 
mysterious  than  I  had  felt  it  to  be  at  first,  when 
I  was  smarting  with  my  disappointment  in  Ivor, 
and  tingling  all  over  with  the  humiliation  he 
seemed  to  have  put  upon  me. 

"  Oh,  to  know,  to  know,  what  he's  doing  at 
this  minute!"  I  whispered,  half  aloud,  because 
it  was  comforting  in  my  loneliness  to  hear  the 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE 

sound  of  my  own  voice.  *  To  know  whether  I'm. 
doing  him  the  most  awful  injustice — or  not!  " 

Just  then,  at  the  door  between  my  room  and 
Lisa's,  next  to  mine,  came  a  tapping,  and  in- 
stantly after  the  handle  was  tried.  But  I  had 
turned  the  key,  thinking  that  perhaps  this  very 
thing  might  happen — that  Lisa  might  wish  to- 
come,  and  not  wait  till  I'd  given  her  permission. 
She  does  that  sort  of  thing  sometimes,  for  she 
is  rather  curious  and  impish  (Ivor  calls  her 
"Imp"),  and  if  she  thinks  people  don't  want 
her  that  is  the  very  time  when  she  most  wants 
them. 

"  Oh,  Di,  do  let  me  in! "  she  exclaimed. 

For  a  second  or  two  I  didn't  answer.  Never 
in  my  life  had  I  liked  poor  Lisa  less  than  I'd 
liked  her  for  the  last  four  and  twenty  hours, 
though  I'd  told  myself  over  and  over  again  that 
she  meant  well,  that  she  was  acting  for  my  good, 
and  that  some  day  I  would  be  grateful  instead 
of  longing  to  slap  her,  as  I  couldn't  help  doing 
now.  But  always  before,  when  she  has  irritated 
me  until  I've  nearly  forgotten  my  promise  to 
her  father  (my  step-father)  always  to  be  gentle 
with  her  in  thought  and  deed,  I  have  felt  such 
pangs  of  remorse  that  I've  tried  to  atone,  even 
when  there  wasn't  really  anything  to  atone  for, 
except  in  my  mind.  I  was  afraid  that,  if  I  re- 
fused to  let  her  come  in,  she  would  go  to  bed 
angry  with  me.  And  when  Lisa  is  angry  she 
generally  has  a  heart  attack  and  is  ill  next  day. 


220    THE   POWERS   AXD  MAXINE 

"Di,  are  you  there?"  she  called  again. 

Without  answering,  I  went  to  the  door  and 
unlocked  it.  She  came  in  with  a  rush.  "  I  feel 
perfectly  wild,  as  if  I  must  do  something  des- 
perate," she  said. 

So  did  I,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  let  her  know 
that. 

"  I'm  going  out,"  she  went  on.  "  If  I  don't, 
I  shall  have  a  fit." 

"Out!"  I  repeated.  "You  can't.  It's  mid- 
night." 

"  Can't?  There's  no  such  word  for  me  as 
'  can't,'  when  I  want  to  do  anything,  and  you 
ought  to  know  that,"  said  she.  "  It's  only  being 
ill  that  ever  stops  me,  and  I'm  not  ill  to-night. 
I  feel  as  if  electricity  were  flowing  all  through 
me,  making  my  nerves  jump,  and  I  believe  you 
feel  exactly  the  same  way.  Your  eyes  are  as 
big  as  half-crowns,  and  as  black  as  ink." 

"  I  am  a  little  nervous,"  I  confessed.  And  I 
couldn't  help  thinking  it  odd  that  Lisa  and  I 
should  both  be  feeling  that  electrical  sensation 
at  the  same  time.  "  Perhaps  it's  in  the  air. 
Maybe  there's  going  to  be  a  thunder-storm. 
There  are  clouds  over  the  stars,  and  a  wind 
coming  up." 

"  Maybe  it's  partly  that,  maybe  not,"  said  she. 
"  But  there's  one  thing  I'm  sure  of.  Some- 
thing's going  to  happen." 

"Do  you  feel  that,  too?"  I  broke  out  before 
I'd  stopped  to  think.  Then  I  wished  I  hadn't. 


But  it  was  too  late  to  wish.    Lisa  caught  me  up 
quickly. 

"  All,  I  knew  you  did ! "  she  cried,  looking  as 
eerie  and  almost  as  haggard  as  a  witch.  "  Some- 
thing is  going  to  happen.  Come.  Go  with  me 
and  be  in  it,  whatever  it  is." 

"  No,"  I  said.  "  And  you  mustn't  go  either." 
But  she  was  weird.  She  seemed  to  lure  me,  like 
a  strange  little  siren,  with  all  a  siren's  witchery, 
though  without  her  beauty.  My  voice  sounded 
undecided,  and  I  knew  it. 

"Of  course  I'm  not  asking  you  to  wander 
with  me  in  the  night,  hand  in  hand  through  the 
streets  of  Paris,  like  the  Two  Orphans,"  said 
Lisa.  "I'm  going  to  have  a  closed  carriage — a 
motor-brougham,  one  belonging  to  the  hotel,  so 
it's  quite  safe.  It's  ordered  already,  and  I  shall 
first  drive  and  drive  until  my  nerves  stop  jerk- 
ing and  my  head  throbbing.  If  you  won't  drive 
with  me  I  shall  drive  alone.  But  there'll  be  no 
harm  in  it,  either  way.  I  didn't  know  you  were 
so  conventional  as  to  think  there  could  be. 
Where's  your  brave,  independent  American 
spirit? " 

"  I'm  not  conventional,"  I  said. 
'  Yes,    you    are.      Living    in    England    has 
spoiled  you.    You're  afraid  of  things  you  never 
used  to  be  afraid  of." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  things,  and  I'm  not  a  bit 
changed,"  I  said.  "  You  only  want  to  '  dare  ' 
me." 


222     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  I  want  you  to  go  with  me.  It  would  be  so 
much  nicer  than  going  alone,"  she  begged. 
"  Supposing  I  got  ill  in  a  hired  cab?  I  might, 
you  know;  but  I  cant  stay  indoors,  whatever 
happens.  If  we  were  together  it  would  be  an 
adventure  worth  remembering." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  "  I'll  go  with  you,  not 
for  the  adventure,  but  rather  than  have  you 
make  a  fuss  because  I  try  to  keep  you  in,  and 
rather  than  you  should  go  alone." 

"  Good  girl !  "  exclaimed  Lisa,  quite  pleasant 
and  purring,  now  that  she  had  got  her  way; 
though  if  I'd  refused  she  would  probably  have 
cried.  She  is  terrifying  when  she  cries.  Great, 
deep  sobs  seem  almost  to  tear  her  frail  little  body 
to  pieces.  She  goes  deadly  white,  and  sometimes 
ends  up  by  a  fit  of  trembling  as  if  she  were  in 
an  ague. 

"  Have  you  really  ordered  a  motor  cab? "  I 
asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  she.  "  I  rang  for  a  waiter,  and 
sent  him  down  to  tell  the  big  porter  at  the  front 
door  to  get  me  one.  Then  I  gave  him  five 
francs,  and  said  I  did  not  want  anybody  to 
know,  because  I  must  visit  a  poor,  sick  friend 
who  had  written  to  say  she  was  in  great  trouble, 
but  wished  to  tell  no  one  except  me  that  she'd 
come  to  Paris." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  such  an  elaborate 
story  necessary  to  a  waiter,"  I  remarked,  tossing 
up  my  chin  a  little,  for  I  don't  like  Lisa's  sub- 


terranean  ways.  But  this  time  she  didn't  even 
try  to  defend  herself. 

"  Let's  get  ready  at  once,"  she  said.  "  I'm 
going  to  put  on  my  long  travelling  cloak,  to 
cover  up  this  dress,  and  wear  my  black  toque, 
with  a  veil.  I  suppose  you'll  do  the  same?  Then 
we  can  slip  out,  and  down  the  '  service '  stairs. 
The  carriage  is  to  wait  for  us  at  the  side 
entrance." 

I  looked  at  her,  trying  to  read  her  secretive 
little  face.  "  Lisa,  are  you  planning  to  go  some- 
where in  particular,  do  something  you  want  to 
'  spring '  on  me  when  it's  too  late  for  me  to  get 
out  of  it?" 

"  How  horrid  of  you  to  be  so  suspicious  of 
me!  You  do  hurt  my  feelings!  I  haven't  had 
an  inspiration  yet,  so  I  can't  make  a  plan.  But 
it  will  come;  I  know  it  will.  I  shall  feel  where 
we  ought  to  go,  to  be  in  the  midst  of  an  ad- 
venture— oh,  without  being  mixed  up  in  it,  so 
don't  look  horrified!  I  told  you  that  something 
was  going  to  happen,  and  that  I  wanted  to  be  in 
it.  Well,  I  mean  to  be,  when  the  inspiration 
comes." 

We  put  on  our  dark  hats  and  long  travelling 
cloaks.  I  pinned  on  Lisa's  veil,  and  my  own. 
Then  she  peeped  to  see  if  anyone  were  about ;  but 
there  was  nobody  in  the  corridor.  We  hurried 
out,  and  as  Lisa  already  knew  where  to  find  the 
*  service '  stairs,  we  were  soon  on  the  way  down. 
At  the  side  entrance  of  the  hotel  the  motor-cab 


224     THE   POWERS   AND   MAXINE 

was  waiting,  and  when  we  were  both  seated  inside, 
Lisa  spoke  in  French  to  the  driver,  who  waited 
for  orders. 

"  I  think  you  might  take  us  to  the  Rue 
d'Hollande.  Drive  fast,  please.  After  that, 
I'll  tell  you  where  to  go  next." 

"  Is  this  your  '  inspiration  '?  "  I  asked. 

"  I'm  not  sure  yet.  Why?  "  and  her  voice  was 
rather  sharp. 

"  For  no  particular  reason.  I'm  a  little  curi- 
out,  that's  all." 

We  drove  on  for  some  minutes  in  silence.  I 
was  sure  now  that  Lisa  had  been  playing  with 
me,  that  all  along  she  had  had  some  special  des- 
tination in  her  mind,  and  that  she  had  her  own 
reasons  for  wanting  to  bring  me  to  it.  But  what 
use  to  ask  more  questions?  She  did  not  mean 
me  to  find  out  until  she  was  ready  for  me  to 
know. 

She  had  told  the  man  to  go  quickly,  and 
he  obeyed.  He  rushed  us  round  corners  and 
through  street  after  street  which  I  had  never 
seen  before — quiet  streets,  where  there  were  no 
cabs,  and  no  gay  people  coming  home  from  the- 
atres and  dinners.  At  last  we  turned  into  a  par- 
ticularly dull  little  street,  and  stopped. 

!<  Is  this  the  Rue  d'Hollande? "  Lisa  enquired 
of  the  driver,  jumping  quickly  up  and  putting 
her  head  out  of  the  window. 

" Mais  oui,  Mademoiselle"  I  heard  the  man 
answer. 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        225 

'  Then  stop  where  you  are,  please,  until  I  give 
you  new  orders." 

"  I  should  have  thought  this  was  the  sort  of 
street  where  nothing  could  possibly  happen," 
said  I. 

'  Wait  a  little,  and  maybe  you'll  find  out 
you're  mistaken.  If  nothing  does,  and  we  aren't 
amused,  we  can  go  on  somewhere  else." 

She  had  not  finished  speaking  when  a  hand- 
some electric  carriage  spun  almost  noiselessly 
round  the  corner.  It  slowed  down  before  a  gate 
set  in  a  high  wall,  almost  covered  with  creepers, 
and  though  the  street  was  dimly  lighted  and  we 
had  stopped  at  a  little  distance,  I  could  see  that 
the  house  behind  the  wall,  though  not  large,  was 
very  quaint  and  pretty,  an  unusual  sort  of  house 
for  Paris,  it  seemed  to  me. 

Scarcely  had  the  electric  carriage  come  to  a 
halt  when  the  chauffeur,  in  neat,  dark  livery, 
jumped  down  to  open  the  door;  and  quickly  a 
tall,  slim  woman  sprang  out,  followed  by  an- 
other, elderly  and  stout,  who  looked  like  a  lady's 
maid. 

I  could  not  see  the  face  of  either,  but  the  light 
of  the  lamp  on  our  side  of  the  way  shone  on 
the  hair  of  the  slim  young  woman  in  black,  who 
got  down  first.  It  wras  gorgeous  hair,  the  colour 
of  burnished  copper.  I  had  heard  a  man  say 
once  that  only  two  women  in  the  world  had  hair 
of  that  exact  shade:  Jane  Hading  and  Maxine 
de  Renzie. 


226    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

My  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  and  I  guessed 
in  an  instant  why  Lisa  had  brought  me  here, 
though  how  she  could  have  learned  where  to  find 
the  house,  I  didn't  know. 

"  Oh,  Lisa!  "  I  reproached  her.  "  How  could 
you?" 

"  It  really  was  an  inspiration.  I'm  sure  of 
that  now,"  she  said  quietly,  though  I  could  tell 
by  her  tone  that  she  was  trying  to  hide  excite- 
ment. '  You  never  saw  that  woman  before,  ex- 
cept once  on  the  stage,  yet  you  know  who  she  is. 
You  jumped  as  if  she  had  fired  a  shot  at  you." 

"  I  know  by  the  hair,"  I  answered.  "  I  might 
have  foreseen  this  would  be  the  kind  of  thing 
you  would  think  of — it's  like  you." 

'  You  ought  to  be  grateful  to  me  for  thinking 
of  it,"  said  Lisa.  "  It's  entirely  for  your  sake; 
and  it's  quite  true,  it  was  an  inspiration  to  come 
here.  This  afternoon  in  the  train  I  read  an  in- 
terview in  *  Femina '  with  Maxine  de  Renzie, 
about  the  new  play  she's  produced  to-night. 
There  was  a  picture  of  her,  and  a  description  of 
her  house  in  the  Rue  d'Hollande." 

"  Now  you  have  satisfied  your  curiosity. 
You've  seen  her  back,  and  her  maid's  back,  and 
the  garden  wall,"  I  said,  more  sharply  than  I 
often  speak  to  Lisa.  "  I  shall  tell  the  driver  to 
take  us  to  the  hotel  at  once.  I  know  why  you 
want  to  wait  here,  but  you  shan't — I  won't.  I'm 
going  away  as  quickly  as  I  can." 

She  caught  my  dress  as  I  would  have  leaned 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        227! 

out  to  speak  to  the  driver.  Her  manner  had  sud- 
denly changed,  and  she  was  all  softness  and 
sweetness,  and  persuasiveness. 

"Di,  dearest  girl,  don't  be  cross  with  me; 
please  don't  misunderstand,"  she  implored.  "  I 
love  you,  you  know,  even  if  you  sometimes  think 
I  don't;  I  want  you  to  be  happy — oh,  wait  a 
moment,  and  listen.  I've  been  so  miserable  all 
day,  knowing  you  were  miserable;  and  I've  felt 
horribly  guilty  for  fear,  after  all,  I'd  said  too 
much.  Of  course  if  you'd  guessed  where  I  meant 
to  come,  you  wouldn't  have  stirred  out  of  the 
hotel,  and  it  was  better  for  you  to  see  for  your- 
self. Unless  Ivor  Dundas  came  here  with  a 
motor-cab,  as  we  did,  he  could  hardly  have  ar- 
rived yet,  so  if  he  does  come,  we  shall  know.  If 
he  doesn't  come,  we  shall  know,  too.  Think  how 
happy  you'll  feel  if  he  doesn't!  I'll  apologise 
to  you  then,  frankly  and  freely;  and  I  suppose 
you  would  not  mind  apologising  to  him,  if  neces- 
sary? " 

"  He  may  be  in  the  house  now,"  I  said,  more 
to  myself  than  to  Lisa. 

"  If  he  is,  he'll  come  out  and  meet  her  when  he 
hears  the  gate  open.  There,  it's  open  now.  The 
maid's  unlocked  it.  No,  there's  nobody  in  the 
garden." 

"  I  can't  stop  here  and  watch  for  him,  like  a 
spy,"  I  said. 

"  Not  like  a  spy,  but  like  a  girl  who  thinks  she 
may  have  done  a  man  an  injustice.  It's  for  his 


228     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

sake  I  ask  you  to  stay.  And  if  you  won't,  I 
must  stay  alone.  If  you  insist  on  going  away, 
I'll  get  out  and  stand  in  the  street,  either  until 
Ivor  Dundas  has  come,  or  until  I'm  sure  he  isn't 
coming.  But  how  much  better  to  wait  and  see 
for  yourself." 

"You  know  I  can't  go  off  and  leave  you 
standing  here,"  I  answered.  "  And  I  can't  leave 
you  sitting  in  the  carriage,  and  walk  through  the 

streets  alone.  I  might  meet "  I  would  not 

finish  my  sentence,  but  Lisa  must  have  guessed 
the  name  on  my  lips. 

'  The  only  thing  to  do,  then,  is  for  us  to  stop 
where  we  are,  together,"  said  Lisa,  "  for  stop  I 
must  and  shall,  in  justice  to  myself,  to  Ivor  Dun- 
das  and  to  you.  You  couldn't  force  me  away, 
even  if  you  wanted  to  use  force." 

"  Which  you  know  is  out  of  the  question,"  I 
said,  desperately.  "  But  why  has  your  con- 
science begun  to  reproach  you  for  trying  to  put 
me  against  Ivor?  You  seemed  to  have  no  scru- 
ples whatever,  last  night  and  this  morning." 

"  I've  been  thinking  hard  since  then.  I  want 
my  warning  to  you  either  to  be  justified,  or  else 
I  want  to  apologise  humbly.  For  if  Ivor  doesn't 
come  to  this  house  to-night,  in  spite  of  his  em- 
barrassment when  he  spoke  about  an  engage- 
ment, I  shall  believe  that  he  doesn't  care  a  rap 
about  Maxine  de  Renzie." 

I  said  no  more,  but  leaned  back  against  the 
cushions,  my  heart  beating  as  if  it  were  in  my 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        229 

throat,  and  my  brain  throbbing  in  time  with  it. 
I  could  not  think,  or  argue  with  myself  what  was 
really  right  and  wise  to  do.  I  could  only  give 
myself  up,  and  drift  with  circumstances. 

"  A  man  has  just  come  round  the  far  corner," 
whispered  Lisa.  '  Is  it  Ivor?  I  can't  make 
out.  He  doesn't  look  our  way." 

'  Thank  Heaven  we're  too  far  off  for  him  to 
see  our  faces !  I  would  rather  die  than  have  Ivor 
know  we're  here,"  I  broke  out. 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  Ivor,"  Lisa  went  on. 
"He's  hidden  himself  in  the  shadow,  as  if  he 
were  watching.  It's  that  house  he's  interested 
in.  Who  can  he  be,  if  not  Ivor?  A  detective, 
perhaps." 

"  Why  should  a  detective  watch  Mademoiselle 
de  Renzie's  house? "  I  asked,  in  spite  of  myself. 

Lisa  seemed  a  little  confused,  as  if  she  had 
said  something  she  regretted. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  she  answered  has- 
tily. '  Why,  indeed?  It  was  just  a  thought. 
The  man  seems  so  anxious  not  to  be  seen.  Oh — 
keep  back,  Di,  don't  look  out  for  an  instant,  till 
he's  passed.  Ivor  is  coming  now.  He's  walk- 
ing in  a  great  hurry.  There!  he  can't  see  you. 
He's  far  enough  away  for  you  to  peep,  and 
see  for  yourself.  He's  at  Maxine  de  Renzie's 
gate." 

It  was  all  over,  then,  and  no  more  hope.  His 
eyes  when  they  gave  me  that  tragic  look  had 
lied,  even  as  his  lips  had  lied  last  night,  when  he 


230    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

told  me  there  was  no  other  woman  in  his  world 
but  me. 

"  I  won't  look,"  I  stammered,  almost  choking. 

"  Someone,  I  can't  see  who,  is  letting  him  in. 
The  gate's  shut  behind  him." 

"  Let  us  go  now,"  I  begged. 

"No,  no,  not  yet!"  cried  Lisa.  "I  must 
know  what  happens  next.  We  are  in  the  midst 
of  it,  indeed." 

I  hardly  cared  what  she  did,  now.  Ivor  had 
come  to  see  Maxine  de  Renzie,  and  nothing  else 
mattered  very  much.  I  had  no  strength  to  insist 
that  we  should  go. 

"  I  wonder  what  the  man  in  the  shadow  would 
do  if  he  saw  us?"  Lisa  said.  Then  she  leaned 
out,  on  the  side  away  from  the  hiding  man,  and 
softly  told  our  chauffeur  to  go  very  slowly  along 
the  street.  This  he  did,  but  the  man  did  not 
move. 

"  Stop  before  that  house  behind  the  wall  with 
the  creepers,"  directed  Lisa,  but  I  would  not 
allow  that. 

"  No,  he  shall  not  stop  there ! "  I  exclaimed. 
"  Lisa,  I  forbid  it.  You've  had  your  way  in 
everything  so  far.  I  won't  let  you  have  it  in 
this." 

'  Very  well,  we'll  turn  the  corner  into  the  next 
street,  to  please  you,"  said  Lisa;  and  she  gave 
orders  to  the  chauffeur  again.  "  Now  stop,"  she 
cried,  when  we  had  gone  half  way  down  the 
street,  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  anyone  in  the 


DIANA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        231 

Hue  d'Hollande.  Then,  in  another  instant,  be- 
fore I  had  any  idea  what  she  meant  to  do,  she 
was  out  of  the  cab,  running  like  a  child  in  the 
direction  whence  we  had  come.  I  looked  after 
her,  hesitating  whether  or  not  to  follow  (for  I 
could  not  bear  to  risk  meeting  Ivor),  and  saw 
that  she  paused  at  the  corner.  She  was  peeping 
into  the  Rue  d'Hollande,  to  find  out  what  was 
happening  there. 

"  She  will  come  back  in  a  moment  or  two,"  I 
said  to  myself  wearily,  and  sat  waiting.  For  a 
little  while  she  stood  with  her  long  dress  gathered 
up  under  her  cloak:  then  she  darted  round  the 
corner  and  vanished.  If  she  had  not  appeared 
again  almost  at  once,  I  should  have  had  to  tell 
the  driver  to  follow,  though  I  hated  the  thought 
of  going  again  into  the  street  where  Maxine  de 
Renzie  lived.  But  she  did  come,  and  in  her  hand 
was  a  pretty  little  brocade  bag  embroidered  with 
gold  or  silver  that  sparkled  even  in  the  faint 
light. 

"  I  saw  this  lying  in  the  street,  and  ran  to  pick 
it  up,"  she  exclaimed. 

'  You  might  better  have  left  it,"  I  said  stiffly. 
"  Perhaps  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie  dropped  it." 

;<  No,  I  don't  think  so.  It  wasn't  in  front  of 
her  house." 

"  It  may  belong  to  that  man  who  was  watch- 
ing, then." 

"  It  doesn't  look  much  like  a  thing  that  a  man 
would  carry  about  with  him,  does  it?" 


232     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  No,"  I  admitted,  indifferently.  "  Now  we 
will  go  home." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  wait  and  see  how  long 
Ivor  Dundas  stops? " 

"  Indeed  I  don't!  "  I  cried.  "  I  don't  want  to 
know  any  more  about  him."  And  for  the 
moment  I  almost  believed  that  what  I  said  was 
true. 

'  Very  well,"  said  Lisa,  "  perhaps  we  do  know- 
enough  to  prove  to  us  both  that  I  haven't  any- 
thing to  reproach  myself  with.  And  the  less  you 
think  about  him  after  this,  the  better." 

"  I  shan't  think  about  him  at  all,"  I  said.  But 
I  knew  that  was  a  boast  I  should  never  be  able 
to  keep,  try  as  I  might.  I  felt  now  that  I  could 
understand  how  people  must  feel  when  they  are 
very  old  and  weary  of  life.  I  don't  believe  that 
I  shall  feel  older  and  more  tired  if  I  live  to  be 
eighty  than  I  felt  then.  It  was  a  slight  comfort 
to  know  that  we  were  on  our  way  back  to  the 
hotel,  and  that  soon  I  should  be  in  my  room 
alone,  with  the  door  shut  and  locked  between 
Lisa  and  me;  but  it  was  only  very  slight.  I 
couldn't  imagine  ever  being  really  pleased  about 
anything  again. 

1  You  will  marry  Lord  Robert  now,  I  sup- 
pose," chirped  Lisa,  "  and  show  Ivor  Dundas 
that  he  hasn't  spoiled  your  life." 

As  she  asked  this  question  she  was  tugging 
away  at  a  knot  in  the  ribbons  that  tied  the  bag 
she  had  found. 


DIAXA  TAKES  A  DRIVE        233 

"  Perhaps  I  shall,"  I  answered.  "  I  might  do 
worse." 

"  I  should  think  you  might! "  exclaimed  Lisa. 
"  Oh,  do  accept  him  soon.  I  don't  want  Ivor 
Dundas  to  say  to  himself  that  you're  broken- 
hearted for  him.  Lord  Bob  is  sure  to  propose 
to  you  to-morrow — even  if  he  hasn't  already: 
and  if  he  has,  he'll  do  it  again.  I  saw  it  in  his 
eye  all  to-day.  He  was  dying  to  speak  at  any 
minute,  if  only  he'd  got  a  chance  with  you  alone. 
You  will  say  '  yes  '  when  he  does,  won't  you,  and 
have  the  engagement  announced  at  once?" 

"  I'll  see  how  I  feel  at  the  time,  if  it  comes," 
I  answered,  trying  to  speak  gaily,  but  making  a 
failure  of  it. 

At  last  Lisa  had  got  the  brocade  bag  open, 
and  was  looking  in.  She  seemed  surprised  by 
what  she  saw,  and  very  much  interested.  She 
put  in  her  hand,  and  touched  the  thing,  what- 
ever it  was;  but  she  did  not  tell  me  what  was 
there.  Probably  she  wanted  to  excite  my  curios- 
ity, and  make  me  ask.  But  I  didn't  care  enough 
to  humour  her.  If  the  bag  had  been  stuffed  full 
of  the  most  gorgeous  jewels  in  the  world,  at  that 
moment  I  shouldn't  have  been  interested  in  the 
least.  I  saw  Lisa  give  a  little  sidelong  peep  up 
at  me,  to  see  if  I  were  watching;  but  when  she 
found  me  looking  entirely  indifferent,  she  tied 
up  the  bag  again  and  stowed  it  away  in  one  of 
the  deep  pockets  of  her  travelling  cloak. 

I  was  afraid  that,  when  we'd  arrived  at  the 


234    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

hotel  and  gone  up  to  our  rooms  Lisa  might 
want  to  stop  with  me,  and  be  vexed  when  I 
turned  her  out,  as  I  felt  I  must  do.  But  she 
seemed  to  have  lost  interest  in  me  and  my  affairs, 
now  that  all  doubt  was  settled.  She  didn't  even 
wish  to  talk  over  what  had  happened;  but  when 
I  bade  her  good-night,  simply  said,  "  good- 
night "  in  return,  and  let  me  shut  the  door  be- 
tween the  rooms. 

"  I  suppose,"  I  thought,  "  that  the  best  thing 
I  shall  have  to  hope  for  after  this,  until  I  grow 
quite  old,  is  to  sleep,  and  be  happy  in  my  dreams." 
But  though  I  tried  hard  to  put  away  thoughts 
of  all  kinds,  and  fall  asleep,  I  couldn't.  My  eyes 
would  not  stay  closed  for  more  than  a  minute 
at  a  time ;  and  always  I  found  myself  staring  at 
the  window,  hour  after  hour,  hoping  for  the 
light. 


CHAPTER  XV 


IT  seemed  as  if  the  night  would  never  end. 
If  I  had  been  vain,  and  deserved  to  be  punished 
for  my  vanity,  then  I  was  well  punished  now; 
I  felt  so  ashamed  and  humiliated. 

It  must  have  been  long  after  one  when  I  went 
to  bed,  yet  I  was  thankful  when  dawn  came, 
and  gave  me  an  excuse  to  get  up.  After  I  had 
had  a  cold  bath,  however,  I  felt  better,  and  a  cup 
of  steaming  hot  coffee  afterwards  did  me  good. 
I  was  all  dressed  when  Morton,  Aunt  Lilian's 
maid,  knocked  at  my  door  to  ask  if  I  were  up, 
and  if  she  could  help  me  do  my  hair.  "  Her 
Ladyship  "  sent  me  her  love,  and  hoped  I  had 
rested  nicely.  She  would  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
I  was  looking  well. 

Looking  well!  I  was  glad  to  know  that, 
though  it  surprised  me.  I  stared  at  myself  in 
the  glass,  and  wondered  that  so  many  hours  of 
misery  had  made  so  little  impression  on  my  face. 
I  was  rather  paler  than  usual,  perhaps,  but  my 
cheeks  were  faintly  pink,  and  my  lips  red.  I 
suppose  while  one  is  young  one  can  suffer  a 
good  deal  and  one's  face  tell  no  secret. 

235 


238    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

We  were  to  make  a  very  early  start  to  exam- 
ine the  wonderful  motor-car  which  Lord  Robert 
West  had  advised  Aunt  Lil  to  buy.  After- 
wards she  and  Lisa  and  I  had  planned  to  do  a 
little  shopping,  because  it  would  seem  a  waste 
of  time  to  be  in  Paris  and  bring  nothing  away 
from  the  shops.  But  when  I  tapped  at  Lisa's 
door  (dreading,  yet  wishing,  to  have  our  first 
greeting  over),  it  appeared  that  she  had  a  bad 
headache  and  did  not  want  to  go  with  us  to  see 
the  Rajah's  automobile.  While  I  was  with  her 
Aunt  Lil  came  in,  looking  very  bright  and  hand- 
some. 

She  was  "  so  sorry  "  for  Lisa,  and  not  at  all 
sorry  for  me  (how  little  she  guessed!)  ;  and  be- 
fore taking  me  away  with  her,  promised  to  come 
back  after  it  was  settled  about  the  car,  to  see 
whether  Lisa  were  well  enough  by  that  time  for 
the  shopping  expedition. 

The  automobile  really  was  a  "  magnificent 
animal,"  as  Aunt  Lil  said,  and  it  took  her  just 
two  minutes,  after  examining  it  from  bonnet  to 
tool-boxes,  to  make  up  her  mind  that  she  could 
not  be  happy  without  it.  It  was  sixty  horse- 
power, and  of  a  world-renowned  make;  but  that 
was  a  detail.  Any  car  could  be  powerful  and 
wrell  made ;  every  car  should  be,  or  you  would  not 
pay  for  it;  but  she  had  never  seen  one  before 
with  such  heavenly  little  arrangements  for  lug- 
gage and  lunch;  while  as  for  the  gold  toilet 
tilings,  in  a  pale  grey  suede  case,  they  were  be- 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          237 

yond  words,  and  she  must  have  them — the  motor 
also,  of  course,  since  it  went  with  them. 

So  that  was  decided;  and  she  and  I  drove  back 
to  the  hotel,  while  the  two  men  went  to  the  Auto- 
mobile Club,  of  which  Lord  Bob  was  an  honor- 
ary member. 

If  possible,  all  formalities  were  to  be  got 
through  with  the  Rajah's  agent  and  the  car  paid 
for.  At  two  o'clock,  when  we  were  to  meet  the 
men  at  the  Ritz  for  luncheon,  they  were  to  let 
us  know  whether  everything  had  been  success- 
fully arranged:  and,  if  so,  Aunt  Lil  wanted  the 
party  to  motor  to  Calais  in  her  new  automobile, 
instead  of  going  by  train.  Lord  Bob  would 
drive,  but  he  meant  to  hire  a  chauffeur  recom- 
mended by  the  Club,  so  that  he  would  not  have 
to  stop  behind  and  see  to  getting  the  car  across 
the  Channel  in  a  cargo  boat. 

Aunt  Lil  was  very  much  excited  over  this 
idea,  as  she  always  is  over  anything  new,  and 
if  I  was  rather  quiet  and  uninterested,  she  was 
too  much  occupied  to  notice. 

Lisa  was  looking  worse  when  we  went  back 
to  her  at  the  hotel,  but  Aunt  Lil  didn't 
notice  that  either.  She  is  always  nice  to  Lisa, 
but  she  doesn't  like  her,  and  it  is  only  when  you 
really  care  for  people  that  you  observe  changes 
in  them  when  you  are  busy  thinking  of  your 
own  affairs. 

I  advised  Lisa  to  rest  in  her  own  room,  in- 
stead of  shopping,  as  she  would  have  the  long 


238     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

motor  run  later  in  the  day,  and  a  night  jour- 
ney; but  she  was  dressed  and  seemed  to  want 
to  go  out.  She  had  things  to  do,  she  said,  and 
though  she  didn't  buy  anything  when  she  was 
with  us,  while  we  were  at  a  milliner's  in  the  Rue 
de  la  Paix  choosing  hats  for  Aunt  Lil,  she  dis- 
appeared on  some  errand  of  her  own,  and  only 
came  back  just  as  we  were  ready  to  leave  the 
shop.  Whatever  it  was  that  she  had  been  doing, 
it  had  interested  her  and  waked  her  out  of  her- 
self, for  her  eyes  looked  brighter  and  she  had 
spots  of  colour  on  her  cheeks. 

Aunt  Lil  found  so  much  to  do,  and  was  sure 
we  could  easily  carry  so  many  things  in  the 
motor-car,  that  it  was  a  rush  to  meet  Uncle  Eric 
and  Lord  Bob  at  the  Ritz,  by  two  o'clock.  But 
we  did  manage  it,  or  nearly.  We  were  not  more 
than  ten  minutes  late,  which  was  wonderful  for 
Aunt  Lil:  and  the  short  time  that  we'd  kept 
them  waiting  wasn't  enough  to  account  for  the 
solemnity  of  the  two  men's  faces  as  they  came 
forward  to  meet  us. 

"Something's  gone  wTrong  about  the  car!" 
exclaimed  Aunt  Lil. 

"  No,  the  car's  all  right,"  said  Lord  Bob. 
"I've  got  you  a  chauffeur  too,  and— 

;<  Then  what  has  happened?  You  both  look 
like  thunder-clouds,  or  wet  blankets,  or  some- 
thing disagreeable.  It  surely  can't  be  because 
you're  hungry  that  you're  cross  about  a  few 
minutes." 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          239 

"Have  you  seen  a  newspaper  to-day?"  asked 
Uncle  Eric. 

"A  newspaper?  I  should  think  not,  indeed; 
we've  had  too  many  important  things  to  do  to 
waste  time  on  trifles.  Why,  has  the  Government 
gone  out? " 

"  Ivor  Dundas  has  got  into  a  mess  here," 
Uncle  Eric  answered,  looking  very  much  wor- 
ried— so  much  worried  that  I  thought  he 
must  care  even  more  about  Ivor  than  I  had 
fancied. 

"Of  course  it's  the  most  awful  rot,"  said  Lord 
Bob,  "  but  he's  accused  of  murder." 

"  It's  in  the  evening  papers:  not  a  word  had 
got  into  the  morning  ones,"  Uncle  Eric  went  on. 
'  We've  only  just  seen  the  news  since  we  came 
here  to  wait  for  you;  otherwise  I  should  have 
tried  to  do  something  for  him.  As  it  is,  of  course 
I  must,  as  a  friend  of  his,  stop  in  Paris  and  do 
what  I  can  to  help  him  through.  But  that 
needn't  keep  the  rest  of  you  from  going  on 
to-day  as  you  planned." 

'What  an  awful  thing!"  exclaimed  Aunt 
Lil.  "  I  will  stay  too,  if  the  girls  don't  mind. 
Poor  fellow!  It  may  be  some  comfort  to  him  to 
feel  that  he  has  friends  on  the  spot,  standing 
by  him.  I've  got  thousands  of  engagements — - 
we  all  have — but  I  shall  telegraph  to  everybody. 
What  about  you,  Lord  Bob?" 

"  I'll  stand  by,  with  you,  Lady  Mountstuart," 
said  he,  his  nice  though  not  very  clever  face 


240     THE    POWERS    AND   MAXINE 

more  anxious-looking  than  I  had  ever  seen  it, 
his  blue,  wide-apart  eyes  watching  me  rather 
wistfully.  "  Dundas  and  I  have  never  been  in- 
timate, but  he's  a  fine  chap,  and  I've  always  ad- 
mired him.  He's  sure  to  come  out  of  this  all 
right." 

Poor  Lord  Robert!  I  hadn't  much  thought 
to  give  him  then;  but  dimly  I  felt  that  his  anx- 
iety was  concerned  with  me  even  more  than 
with  Ivor,  of  whom  he  spoke  so  kindly,  though 
he  had  often  shown  signs  of  jealousy  in  past 
days. 

I  felt  stunned,  and  almost  dazed.  If  anyone 
had  spoken  to  me,  I  think  I  should  have  been 
dumb,  unable  to  answer;  but  nobody  did  speak, 
or  seem  to  think  it  strange  that  I  had  nothing 
to  say. 

"  I  suppose  you  won't  try  to  do  anything  until 
after  lunch,  will  you,  Mountstuart?  "  Lord  Rob- 
ert went  on  to  ask. 

"  No,  we  must  eat,  and  talk  things  over,"  said 
Uncle  Eric. 

We  went  into  the  restaurant,  I  moving  as  if 
I  were  in  a  dream.  Ivor  accused  of  mur- 
der! What  had  he  done?  What  could  have 
happened? 

But  I  was  soon  to  know.  As  soon  as  we  were 
seated  at  a  table,  where  the  lovely,  fresh  flowers 
seemed  a  mockery,  Aunt  Lil  began  asking  ques- 
tions. 

For  some  reason,  Uncle  Eric  apparently  did 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          241 

not  like  answering.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had 
had  some  kind  of  previous  knowledge  of  the  af- 
fair, of  which  he  didn't  wish  to  speak.  But,  I 
suppose,  it  could  not  have  been  that. 

It  was  Lord  Robert  who  told  us  nearly  every- 
thing; and  always  I  was  conscious  that  he  was 
watching  me,  wondering  if  this  were  a  cruel 
blow  for  me,  asking  himself  if  he  were  speak- 
ing in  a  tactful  way  of  one  who  had  been  his 
rival. 

'  There  was  that  engagement  of  Dundas'  last 
night,  which  he  was  just  going  to  keep  when 
we  saw  him,"  said  Lord  Bob,  carefully,  but 
clumsily.  'I'm  afraid  there  must  have  been 
something  fishy  about  that — I  mean,  some  trap 
must  have  been  laid  to  catch  him.  And,  it  seems, 
he  wasn't  supposed  to  be  in  Paris — though  I 
don't  see  what  that  can  have  to  do  with  the  plot, 
if  there  is  one.  He  was  stopping  in  the  hotel 
under  another  name.  No  doubt  he  had  some 
good  reason,  though.  There's  nothing  sly 
about  Dundas.  If  ever  there  was  a  plucky  chap, 
he's  one.  Anyhow,  apparently,  he  wanted  to 
get  hold  of  a  man  in  Paris  he  couldn't  find,  for 
he  called  last  evening  on  a  detective  named  Gi- 
rard,  a  rather  well-known  fellow  in  his  line,  I 
believe.  It  almost  looks  as  if  Dundas  had  made 
an  enemy  of  him,  for  he's  been  giving  evidence 
pretty  freely  to  the  police — lost  no  time  about  it, 
anyhow.  Girard  says  he  was  following  up  the 
scent,  tracking  down  the  person  he'd  been  hired 


242     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

by  Dun  das  to  hunt  for,  and  had  at  last  come  to 
the  house  where  he  was  lodging,  when  there  he 
found  Dundas  himself,  ransacking  the  room, 
covered  with  blood,  and  the  chap  who  was 
wanted,  lying  dead  on  the  floor,  his  body  hardly 
cold." 

"What  time  wras  all  that?"  enquired  Lisa 
sharply.  It  was  the  first  question  she  had 
asked. 

"  Between  midnight  and  one  o'clock,  I  think 
the  papers  said,"  answered  Lord  Bob. 

"Well,  of  course  it's  all  nonsense,"  exclaimed 
Aunt  Lil  impatiently.  "  French  people  are  so 
sensational,  and  they  jump  at  conclusions  so. 
The  idea  of  their  daring  to  accuse  a  man  like 
Ivor  Dundas  of  murder!  They  ought  to  know 
better.  They'll  soon  be  eating  humble-pie, 
and  begging  England's  pardon  for  wrongful 
treatment  of  a  British  subject,  won't  they, 
Eric?" 

"  I'm  afraid  there's  no  question  of  jumping 
at  conclusions  on  the  part  of  the  authorities,  or 
of  eating  humble-pie,"  Uncle  Eric  said.  '  The 
evidence — entirely  circumstantial  so  far,  luckily 
• — is  dead  against  Ivor.  And  as  for  his  being  a 
British  subject,  there's  nothing  in  that.  If  an 
Englishman  chooses  to  commit  a  murder  in 
France,  he's  left  to  the  French  law  to  deal  with, 
as  if  he  were  a  Frenchman." 

"But  Ivor  hasn't  committed  murder!"  cried 
Aunt  Lilian,  horrified. 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          243 

"  Of  course  not.  But  he's  got  to  prove  that  he 
hasn't.  And  in  that  he's  worse  off  than  if  this 
thing  happened  in  England.  English  law  sup- 
poses a  man  innocent  until  he's  been  proved 
guilty.  French  law,  on  the  contrary,  presumes 
that  he's  guilty  until  he's  proved  innocent.  In 
face  of  the  evidence  against  Ivor,  the  authori- 
ties couldn't  have  done  otherwise  than  they  have 
done." 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  felt  angry  with 
Aunt  Lilian's  husband.  I  do  hate  that  cold, 
stern  "  sense  of  justice "  on  which  men  pride 
themselves  so  much,  wiiether  it's  an  affair  of  a 
friend  or  an  enemy! 

"  Surely  Mr.  Dundas  must  have  been  able  to 
prove  an — an — don't  you  call  it  an  alibi? "  asked 
Lisa. 

"He  didn't  try  to,"  replied  Lord  Bob. 
:'  He's  simply  refused,  up  to  the  persent,  to  tell 
what  he  was  doing  between  twelve  o'clock  and 
the  time  he  wras  found,  except  to  say  that  he 
walked  for  a  good  while  before  going  to  the 
house  where  Girard  afterwards  found  him.  Of 
course  he  denies  killing  the  man:  says  the  fel- 
low had  stolen  something  from  him,  on  the  boat 
crossing  from  Dover  to  Calais  yesterday,  and 
that  after  applying  to  the  detective,  he  got  a 
note  from  the  thief,  offering  to  give  the  thing 
back  if  he  would  call  and  name  a  reward.  Says 
he  found  the  room  already  ransacked  and  the 
fellow  dead,  when  he  arrived  at  the  address  given 


244    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

him ;  that  he  was  searching  for  his  property  when 
Girard  appeared  on  the  scene." 

"  Couldn't  he  have  shown  the  note  sent  by 
the  thief?"  asked  Aunt  Lil? 

"  He  did  show  a  note.  But  it  does  him  more 
harm  than  good.  And  he  wouldn't  tell  what  the 
thing  was  the  thief  had  taken  from  him,  except 
that  it  was  valuable.  It  does  look  as  if  he  were 
determined  to  make  the  case  as  black  as  possible 
against  himself;  but  then,  as  I  said  before,  no 
doubt  he  has  good  reasons." 

"  He  has  no  good  luck,  anyhow! "  sighed  Aunt 
Lil,  who  always  liked  Ivor. 

"  Rather  not — so  far.  Why,  one  of  the  worst 
bits  of  evidence  against  him  is  that  the  concierge 
of  this  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage 
swears  that  though  Dundas  hadn't  been  in  the 
place  much  above  half  an  hour  when  the  detec- 
tive arrived,  he  was  there  then  for  the  second 
time,  that  he  admitted  it  when  he  came.  The  first 
visit  he  made,  according  to  the  concierge,  was 
about  an  hour  before  the  second:  the  concierge 
was  already  in  bed  in  his  little  box,  but  not 
asleep,  when  a  man  rang  and  an  English-sound- 
ing voice  asked  for  Monsieur  Gestre.  On  hear- 
ing that  Gestre  was  away,  the  visitor  said  he 
would  see  the  gentleman  who  was  stopping  in 
Gestre's  room.  By  and  by  the  Englishman 
went  out,  and  on  being  challenged  said  he  might 
come  back  again  later.  After  awhile  the  con- 
cierge was  waked  up  once  more  by  a  caller 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          245 

for  Gestre,  who  announced  that  he'd  been  be- 
fore; and  now  he  vows  that  it  was  the  same 
man  both  times,  though  Dundas  denies  having 
called  twice.  If  he  could  prove  that  he'd  been  in 
the  house  no  more  than  half  an  hour,  it  might 
be  all  right,  for  two  doctors  agree  that  the  mur- 
dered man  had  been  dead  more  than  an  hour 
when  they  were  called  in.  But  he  can't  or  won't 
prove  it — that's  his  luck  again! — and  nobody 
can  be  found  who  saw  him  in  any  of  the  streets 
through  which  he  mentions  passing.  The  last 
moment  that  he  can  be  accounted  for  is  when  a 
cabman,  who'd  taken  him  up  at  the  hotel  just 
after  he  left  us,  set  him  down  in  the  Rue  de 
Courbvoie,  not  so  very  far  from  the  iSlysee  Pal- 
ace. Then  it  was  only  between  five  and  ten  min- 
utes past  twelve,  so  he  could  easily  have  gone  on 
to  the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage  afterwards  and 
killed  his  man  at  the  time  when  the  doctors  say 
the  fellow  must  have  died.  It's  a  bad  scrape. 
But  of  course  Dundas  will  get  out  of  it  somehow 
or  other,  in  the  end." 

"Do  you  think  he  will,  Eric?"  asked  Aunt 
Lil. 

"  I  hope  so  with  all  my  heart,"  he  answered. 
But  his  face  showed  that  he  was  deeply  troubled, 
and  my  heart  sank  down — down. 

As  I  realised  more  and  more  the  danger  in 
which  Ivor  stood,  my  resentment  against  him 
began  to  seem  curiously  trivial.  Nothing  had 
happened  to  make  me  feel  that  I  had  done  him 


246    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

an  injustice  in  thinking  he  cared  more  for  Max- 
ine  de  Renzie  than  for  me — indeed,  on  the  con- 
trary, everything  went  to  prove  his  supreme  loy- 
alty to  her  whose  name  he  had  refused  to  speak, 
even  for  the  sake  of  clearing  himself.  Still,  now 
that  the  world  was  against  him,  my  soul  rushed 
to  stand  by  his  side,  to  defend  him,  to  give  him 
love  and  trust  in  spite  of  all. 

Down  deep  in  my  heart  I  forgave  him,  even 
though  he  had  been  cruel,  and  I  yearned  over 
him  with  an  exceeding  tenderness.  More  than 
anything  on  earth,  I  wanted  to  help  him;  and 
I  meant  to  try.  Indeed,  as  the  talk  went  on 
while  that  terrible  meal  progressed,  I  thought 
I  saw  a  way  to  do  it,  if  Lisa  and  I  should  act 
together. 

I  was  so  anxious  to  have  a  talk  with  her  that 
I  could  hardly  wait  to  get  back  to  our  own  hotel, 
from  the  Ritz.  Fortunately,  nobody  wanted  to 
sit  long  at  lunch,  so  it  wasn't  yet  three  when 
I  called  her  into  my  room.  The  men  had  gone 
to  make  different  arrangements  about  starting, 
for  we  were  not  to  leave  Paris  until  they  had  had 
time  to  do  something  for  Ivor.  Uncle  Eric  went 
to  see  the  British  Ambassador,  and  Aunt  Lilian 
had  said  that  she  would  be  busy  for  at  least  an 
hour,  writing  letters  and  telegrams  to  cancel  en- 
gagements we  had  had  in  London.  For  awhile 
Lisa  and  I  were  almost  sure  not  to  be  inter- 
rupted; but  I  spoke  out  abruptly  what  was  in 
my  mind,  not  wishing  to  lose  a  minute. 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          247 

"  I  think  the  only  thing  for  us  to  do,"  I  said, 
"is  to  tell  what  we  know,  and  save  Ivor  in  spite 
of  himself." 

"  How  can  anything  you  know  save  him? " 
she  asked,  with  a  queer,  faint  emphasis  which  I 
didn't  understand. 

"Don't  you  see,"  I  cried,  "that  if  we  come 
forward  and  say  we  saw  him  in  the  Rue  d'Hol- 
lande  at  a  quarter  past  twelve — going  into  a 
house  there — he  couldn't  have  murdered  the  man 
in  that  other  house,  far  away.  It  all  hangs  on 
the  time." 

"  But  you  didn't  see  him  go  in,"  Lisa  contra- 
dicted me. 

I  stared  at  her.  cf  You  did.  Isn't  it  the  same 
thing?" 

"  No,  not  unless  I  choose  to  say  so." 

"And — but  you  will  choose.  You  want  to 
save  him,  of  course." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  he's  innocent.  Because  he's  your 
friend." 

"  No  man  is  the  friend  of  any  woman,  if  he's 
in  love  with  another." 

"  Oh,  Lisa,  does  sophistry  of  that  sort  mat- 
ter? Does  anything  matter  except  saving 
him?" 

"  I  don't  consider,"  she  said,  in  a  slow,  aggra- 
vating way,  "that  Ivor  Dundas  has  behaved 
very  well  to — to  our  family.  But  I  want  you 
to  understand  this,  Di.  If  he  is  to  be  got  out  of 


248    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

this  danger — no  doubt  it's  real  danger — in  any 
such  way  as  you  propose,  it's  for  me  to  do  it,  not 
you.  He'll  have  to  owe  his  gratitude  to  me. 
And  there's  something  else  I  can  do  for  him, 
perhaps — I,  and  only  I.  A  thing  of  value  was 
stolen  from  him,  it  seems,  a  thing  he  was  anxious 
to  get  back  at  any  price — even  the  price  of 
looking  for  it  on  a  dead  man's  body.  Well,  I 
think  I  know  what  that  thing  was — I  think  I 
have  it." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  asked,  astonished 
at  her  and  at  her  manner — and  her  words. 

"I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  what  I  mean. 
Only  I'm  sure  of  what  I'm  saying — at  least, 
that  the  thing  is  valuable,  worth  risking  a  great 
deal  for.  I  learned  that  from  experts  this  morn- 
ing, while  you  and  your  aunt  were  thinking 
about  hats." 

For  an  instant  I  was  completely  bewildered. 
Then,  suddenly,  a  strange  idea  sprang  into  my 
mind: 

'  That  brocade  bag  you  picked  up  in  the  Rue 
d'Hollande  last  night!" 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  thought  of  it  from 
that  moment  to  this — there  had  been  so  many 
other  things  which  seemed  more  important. 

Lisa  looked  annoyed.  I  think  she  had  counted 
on  my  not  remembering,  or  not  connecting  her 
hints  with  the  thing  she  had  found  in  the  street, 
and  that  she  had  wanted  to  tantalise  me. 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          249 

"  I  won't  say  whether  I  mean  the  brocade  bag* 
or  not,  and  whether,  if  I  do,  that  I  believe  Ivor 
dropped  it,  or  whether  there  was  another  man 
mixed  up  in  the  case — perhaps  the  real  mur- 
derer. If  I  do  decide  to  tell  what  I  know  and 
what  I  suspect,  it  won't  be  to  you — unless  for 
a  verv  particular  reason — and  it  won't  be  yet 
awhile." 

I'm  afraid  that  I  almost  hated  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, she  seemed  so  cold,  so  calculating  and  sly. 
I  couldn't  bear  to  think  that  she  was  my  step- 
sister, and  I  was  glad  that,  at  least,  not  a  drop 
of  the  same  blood  ran  in  our  veins. 

"If  you  choose  to  keep  silent  for  some  pur- 
pose of  your  own,"  I  broke  out,  "  you  can't 
prevent  me  from  telling  the  whole  story,  as 
/  know  it — how  I  went  out  with  you,  and  all 
that." 

"  I  can't  prevent  you  from  doing  it,  but  I  can 
advise  you  not  to — for  Ivor's  sake,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"For  his  sake?" 

*  Yes,  and  for  your  own,  too,  if  you  care  for 
his  opinion  of  you  at  all.  For  his  sake,  because 
neither  of  us  knows  when  he  came  out  of  Max- 
ine  de  Renzie's  house.  You  would  go  away, 
though  I  wanted  to  stay  and  watch.  He  may 
not  have  been  there  more  than  five  minutes  for 
all  we  can  tell  to  the  contrary,  in  which  case  he 
would  still  have  had  time  to  go  straight  off  to 


250    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage  and  kill  that  man, 
in  accordance  with  the  doctors'  statements  about 
the  death.  For  your  sake,  because  if  he  knows 
that  you  tracked  him  to  Maxine  de  Renzie's 
house,  he  won't  respect  you  very  much ;  and  be- 
cause he  would  probably  be  furious  with  you, 
unable  to  forgive  you  as  long  as  he  lived,  for  in- 
juring the  reputation  of  the  woman  he's  risked 
so  much  to  save.  He'd  believe  you  did  it  out  of 
spiteful  jealousy  against  her." 

I  grew  cold  all  over,  and  trembled  so  that  I 
could  hardly  speak. 

"  Ivor  would  know  that  I'm  incapable  of  such 
baseness." 

"  I'm  not  sure  he'd  hold  you  above  it.  *  Hell 
hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned ' — and  he  has 
scorned  you — for  an  actress." 

It  was  as  if  she  had  struck  me  in  the  face: 
and  I  could  feel  the  blood  rush  up  to  my  cheeks. 
They  burned  so  hotly  that  the  tears  were  forced 
to  my  eyes. 

'You  see  I'm  right,  don't  you?"  Lisa 
asked. 

'  You  may  be  right  in  thinking  I  could  do  him 
no  good  in  that  way — and  that  he  wouldn't  wish 
it,  even  if  I  could.  But  not  about  the  rest,"  I 
said.  :<  We  won't  talk  of  it  any  more.  I  can't 
stand  it.  Please  go  back  to  your  room  now,  Lisa, 
I  want  to  be  alone." 

'  Very  well,"  she  snapped,  "  you  called  me  in. 
I  didn't  ask  to  come." 


DIANA   HEARS    NEWS          251 

Then  she  went  out,  with  not  another  word  or 
look,  and  slammed  the  door.  I  could  imagine 
myself  compelling  her  to  give  up  the  brocade 
bag,  or  offering  her  some  great  bribe  of  money, 
thousands  of  pounds,  if  necessary.  Lisa  is  a 
strange  little  creature.  She  will  do  a  good  deal 
for  money. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DIANA  UNDERTAKES  A  STRANGE  ERRAND 

IF  I  had  not  been  tingling  with  anger  against 
Lisa,  who  had  seemed  to  enjoy  saying  needlessly 
cruel  things  to  me,  perhaps  I  would  have  been 
utterly  discouraged  when  she  pricked  the  bubble 
of  my  hope.  She  had  made  me  realise  that  the 
plan  I  had  was  useless,  perhaps  worse  than  use- 
less; but  in  my  desperate  mood  I  caught  at  an- 
other. I  would  try  to  see  Ivor,  and  find  out 
some  other  way  of  helping  him.  At  all  events 
he  should  know  that  I  was  for  him,  not  against 
him,  in  this  time  of  trouble. 

Perhaps  this  new  idea  was  a  mad  one,  I  told 
myself.  Perhaps  I  should  not  be  allowed  to  see 
him,  even  in  the  presence  of  others.  But  while 
there  was  a  "  perhaps "  I  wouldn't  give  up. 
Without  waiting  for  a  cooler  or  more  cowardly 
mood  to  set  in,  I  almost  ran  out  of  my  room, 
and  downstairs,  for  I  hadn't  taken  off  my  hat 
and  coat  since  coming  in. 

I  had  no  knowledge  of  French  law,  or  police 
etiquette,  or  anything  of  that  sort.  But  I  knew 
the  French  as  a  gallant  nation;  and  I  thought 
that  if  a  girl  should  go  to  the  right  place  beg- 

953 


UNDERTAKES   AN   ERRAND    253 

ging  for  a  short  conversation  with  an  accused 
man,  as  his  friend,  an  interview — probably  with 
a  witness — might  possibly  be  granted.  The  au- 
thorities might  think  that  we  were  engaged,  for 
all  I  cared.  I  did  not  care  about  anything  now, 
except  seeing  Ivor,  and  helping  him  if  I 
could. 

I  hardly  knew  what  I  meant  to  do  at  the  be- 
ginning, by  way  of  getting  the  chance  I  wanted, 
until  I  had  asked  to  have  a  motor-cab  called  for 
me.  Then,  I  suddenly  thought  of  the  British 
Ambassador,  a  great  friend  of  Uncle  Eric's  and 
Aunt  Lilian's.  Uncle  Eric  had  already  been  to 
him,  but  I  fancied  not  with  a  view  of  trying  to 
see  Ivor.  That  idea  had  apparently  not  been  in 
his  mind  at  all.  Anyway,  the  Ambassador 
would  already  understand  that  the  family  took 
a  deep  interest  in  the  fate  of  Ivor  Dundas,  and 
would  not  be  wholly  astonished  at  receiving  a 
call  from  me.  Besides,  hearing  of  some  rather 
venturesome  escapades  of  mine  when  I  first  ar- 
rived in  London,  he  had  once,  while  visiting 
Uncle  Eric,  laughed  a  good  deal  and  said  that 
in  future  he  would  be  "  surprised  at  nothing 
an  American  girl  might  do." 

I  told  the  driver  to  go  to  the  British  Embassy; 
as  fast  as  he  could.  There,  I  sent  in  my  name, 
and  the  Ambassador  received  me  at  once.  I 
didn't  explain  much,  but  came  to  the  point  im- 
mediately, and  said  that  I  wanted — oh,  but 
wanted  and  needed  very  much  indeed — to  see 


254    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

Ivor  Dundas.  Could  he,  would  he  help  me  to 
do  that? 

"  Ought  I  to  help  you? "  he  asked.  "  Would 
Mountstuart  and  Lady  Mountstuart  approve?" 

'  Yes,"  I  said  firmly.  "  They  would  approve. 
You  see,  it  is  necessary." 

'  Then,  if  it's  necessary — and  I  believe  you 
when  you  say  that  it  is,"  he  answered,  "  I'll  do 
what  I  can." 

What  he  could  do  and  did  do,  was  to  write  a 
personal  letter  to  the  Chief  of  Police  in  Paris, 
asking  as  a  favour  that  his  friend,  Miss  Forrest, 
a  young  lady  related  through  marriage  to  the 
British  Foreign  Secretary,  should  be  allowed 
five  minutes'  conversation  with  the  Englishman 
accused  of  murder,  Mr.  Ivor  Dundas. 

I  took  the  letter  to  the  Chief  of  Police  myself, 
to  save  time,  and  because  I  was  so  restless  and 
excited  that  I  must  be  doing  something  every 
instant — something  which  I  felt  might  bring  me 
nearer  to  Ivor. 

From  the  Chief  of  Police,  who  proved 
to  be  a  most  courteous  person,  I  received  an 
order  to  give  to  the  governor  of  the  gaol  or 
prison  where  they  had  put  Ivor.  This,  he  ex- 
plained, would  procure  me  the  interview  I 
wanted,  but  unfortunately,  I  must  not  hope  to 
see  my  friend  alone.  A  warder  who  understood 
English  would  have  to  be  present. 

So  far  I  had  gone  into  the  wild  venture  with- 
out once  thinking  what  it  would  be  to  find  myself 


UNDERTAKES    AN    ERRAND     255 

suddenly  face  to  face  with  Ivor  in  such  terrible 
circumstances,  or  what  he  would  think  of  me 
for  coming  in  such  a  way  now  that  we  were  no 
longer  anything  to  each  other — not  even  friends. 
But  a  kind  of  ague-terror  crept  over  me  while 
I  sat  waiting  in  an  ugly  little  bare,  stuffy  recep- 
tion room.  My  head  was  going  round  and 
round,  my  heart  was  pounding  so  that  I  could 
not  make  up  my  mind  what  to  say  to  Ivor  when 
he  came. 

Then,  suddenly,  I  heard  the  sound  of  foot- 
steps outside  the  door ;  and  when  it  opened,  there 
stood  Ivor,  between  two  Frenchmen  in  blue  uni- 
forms. One  of  them  walked  into  the  room  with 
him — I  suppose  he  must  have  been  a  wrarder — 
but  he  stopped  near  the  door,  and  in  a  second 
I  had  forgotten  all  about  him.  He  simply  ceased 
to  exist  for  me,  when  my  eyes  and  Ivor's  had 
met. 

I  sprang  up  from  my  chair  and  began  to  talk 
as  quickly  as  I  could,  stammering  and  confused, 
hardly  knowing  what  I  said,  but  anxious  to 
make  him  understand  in  the  beginning  that  I 
had  not  come  to  take  back  my  words  of  yester- 
day. 

'*  We're  all  so  dreadfully  sorry,  Mr.  Dundas," 
I  said.  "  I  don't  know  if  Uncle  Eric  has  been 
here  yet — but  he  is  doing  all  he  can,  and  Aunt 
Lilian  is  dreadfully  upset.  We're  staying  on 
in  Paris  on  account  of — on  account  of  this.  So 
you  see  you've  got  friends  near  you.  And  I — 


256    THE   POWERS    AND  MAXINE 

we're  such  old  friends,  I  couldn't  help  trying  as 
hard  as  I  could  for  a  sight  of  you  to — to  cheer 
you  up,  and — and  to  help  you,  if  that's  pos- 
sible." 

I  spoke  very  fast,  not  daring  to  look  at  him 
after  the  first,  but  pretending  to  smooth  out 
some  wrinkles  in  one  of  my  long  gloves.  My 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  I  was  afraid  they'd 
go  splashing  down  my  cheeks,  if  I  even  winked 
my  lashes.  I  loved  him  more  than  ever  now,  and 
felt  capable  of  forgiving  him  anything,  if  only 
I  had  the  chance  to  forgive,  and  if  only,  only  he 
really  loved  me  and  not  that  other. 

'  Thank  you,  a  hundred  times — more  than  I 
can  express,"  he  said,  with  a  faint  quiver  in  his 
voice — his  beautiful  voice,  which  was  the  first 
thing  that  charmed  me  after  knowing  him.  "  It 
does  cheer  me  to  see  you.  It  gives  me  strength 
and  courage.  You  wouldn't  have  come  if  you 
didn't — trust  me,  and  believe  me  innocent." 

'  Why,  of  course,  I — we — believe  you  inno- 
cent of  any  crime,"  I  faltered. 

"  And  of  any  lack  of  faith?  " 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,  how  can — but  don't  let's 
speak  of  that.  What  can  it  matter  now?  " 

"  It  matters  more  than  anything  else  in  the 
world.  If  only  you  could  say  that  you  will  have 
faith!" 

"I'll  try  to  say  it  then,  if  it  can  give  you  any 
comfort." 

"  Not  unless  you  mean  it." 


UNDERTAKES    AN    ERRAND     257 

"  Then— I'll  try  to  mean  it.  Will  that  satisfy 
you?" 

"  It's  better  than  nothing.  And  I  thank  you 
again.  As  for  the  rest,  you're  not  to  be  anxious. 
Everything  will  come  right  for  me  sooner  or 
later,  though  I  may  have  to  suffer  some  annoy- 
ances first." 

"Annoyances?"  I  echoed.  "If  there  were 
nothing  worse! " 

'  There  won't  be.  I  shall  be  well  defended. 
It  will  all  be  shown  up  as  a  huge  mistake — an- 
other warning  against  trusting  to  circumstantial 
evidence." 

"  Is  there  nothing  we  can  do  then?  Or — that 
we  would  urge  others  to  do? "  I  asked,  hoping 
he  would  understand  that  I  meant  one  other — • 
Maxine  de  Renzie. 

I  guessed  by  his  look  that  he  did  understand. 
It  was  a  look  of  gloom;  but  suddenly  a  light 
flashed  in  his  eyes. 

:'  There  is  one  thing  you  could  do  for  me — 
you  and  no  one  else,"  he  said.  "  But  I  have  no 
right  to  ask  it." 

'  Tell  me  what  it  is,"  I  implored. 

"  I  would  not,  if  it  didn't  mean  more  than  my 
life  to  me."  He  hesitated,  and  then,  while  I 
wondered  what  was  to  come,  he  bent  forward 
and  spoke  a  few  hurried  words  in  Spanish.  He 
knew  that  to  me  Spanish  was  almost  as  familiar 
as  English.  He  had  heard  me  talk  of  the  Span- 
ish customs  still  existing  in  the  part  of  Califor- 


258     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

nia  where  I  was  born.  He  had  heard  me  sing 
Spanish  songs.  We  had  sung  them  together — • 
one  or  two  I  had  taught  him.  But  I  had  not 
taught  him  the  language.  He  learned  that,  and 
three  or  four  others  at  least,  as  a  boy,  when  first 
he  thought  of  taking  up  a  diplomatic  career. 

They  were  so  few  words,  and  so  quickly 
spoken,  that  I — remembering  the  warder — al- 
most hoped  they  might  pass  unnoticed.  But  the 
man  in  uniform  came  nearer  to  us  at  once,  look- 
ing angry  and  suspicious. 

"  That  is  forbidden,"  he  said  to  Ivor.  Then, 
turning  sharply  to  me.  "  What  language  was 
that?" 

"  Spanish,"  I  answered.  "  He  only  bade  me 
good-bye.  We  have  been — very  dear  friends, 
and  there  was  a  misunderstanding,  but — it's 
over  now.  It  was  natural  he  shouldn't  want  you 
to  hear  his  last  words  to  me." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  is  forbidden,"  repeated  the 
•warder  obstinately,  "  and  though  the  five  min- 
utes you  were  granted  together  are  not  orer  yet, 
the  prisoner  must  go  with  me  now.  He  has  for- 
feited the  rest  of  his  time,  and  must  be  reported." 

With  this,  he  ordered  Ivor  to  leave  the  room, 
in  a  tone  which  sounded  to  me  so  brutal  that  I 
should  have  liked  him  to  be  shot,  and  the  whole 
French  police  force  exterminated.  To  hear  a 
little  underbred  policeman  dare  to  speak  like 
that  to  my  big,  brave,  handsome  Englishman, 
and  to  know  that  it  would  be  childish  and  undig- 


UNDERTAKES   AN   ERRAND    259 

nified  of  Ivor  to  resist — oh,  I  could  have  killed 
the  creature  with  my  own  hands — I  think! 

As  for  Ivor,  he  said  not  another  word,  except 
"good-bye,"  smiling  half  sadly,  half  with  a 
twinkle  of  grim  humour.  Then  he  went  out, 
with  his  head  high:  and  just  at  the  door  he 
threw  me  back  one  look.  It  said  as  plainly  as 
if  he  had  spoken:  "Remember,  I  know  you 
won't  fail  me." 

I  did  indeed  remember,  and  I  prayed  that  I 
should  have  pluck  and  courage  not  to  fail.  But 
it  was  a  very  hard  thing  that  he  had  asked  me  to 
do,  and  he  had  said  well  in  saying  that  he  would 
not  ask  it  of  me  if  it  did  not  mean  more  than  his 
life. 

The  words  he  had  whispered  so  hastily  and 
unexpectedly  in  Spanish,  were  these:  "Go  to 
the  room  of  the  murder  alone,  and  on  the  win- 
dow balcony  find  in  a  box  under  flower-pots  a 
folded  document.  Take  this  to  Maxine.  Every 
moment  counts." 

So  it  seemed  that  it  was  always  of  her  he 
thought — of  Maxine  de  Renzie!  And  I,  of  all 
people  in  the  world,  was  to  help  him,  with  her. 

As  I  thought  of  this  task  he'd  set  me,  and  of 
all  it  meant,  it  appeared  more  and  more  incred- 
ible that  he  should  have  had  the  heart  to  ask 
such  a  thing  of  me.  But — it  "  meant  more  than 
his  life."  And  I  would  do  the  thing,  if  it  could 
be  done,  because  of  my  pride. 

As  I  drove  away  from  the  prison   a  kind  of 


260    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

fury  grew  in  me  and  possessed  me.  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  fire  instead  of  blood  in  my  veins.  If  I 
had  known  that  death,  or  worse  than  death, 
waited  for  me  in  the  ghastly  house  to  which  Ivor 
had  sent  me,  I  would  still  have  gone  there. 

My  first  thought  was  to  go  instantly,  and  get 
it  over — with  success  or  failure.  But  calmer 
thoughts  prevailed. 

I  hadn't  looked  at  the  papers  yet.  My  only 
knowledge  of  last  night's  dreadful  happenings 
had  come  from  Uncle  Eric  and  Lord  Robert 
West.  I  had  said  to  myself  that  I  didn't  wish 
to  read  the  newspaper  accounts  of  the  murder, 
and  of  Ivor's  supposed  part  in  it.  I  remembered 
now,  however,  that  I  did  not  even  know  in  what 
part  of  Paris  the  house  of  the  murder  was.  I 
recalled  only  the  name  of  the  street,  because  it 
was  a  curiously  grim  one — like  the  tragedy  that 
had  been  acted  in  it. 

I  couldn't  tell  the  chaff eur  to  drive  me  to  the 
street  and  house.  That  would  be  a  stupid  thing 
to  do.  I  must  search  the  papers,  and  find  out 
from  them  something  about  the  neighbourhood, 
for  there  would  surely  be  plenty  of  details  of 
that  sort.  And  I  must  do  this  without  first 
going  back  to  the  hotel,  as  it  might  be  very  dif- 
ficult to  get  away  again,  once  I  was  there.  Now, 
nobody  knew  where  I  was,  and  I  was  free  to  do 
as  I  pleased,  no  matter  what  the  consequences 
might  be  afterwards. 

Passing  a  Duval  restaurant,  I  suddenly  or- 


UNDERTAKES   AN   ERRAND    261 

dered  my  motor-cab  to  stop.  Having  paid,  and 
sent  it  away,  I  went  upstairs  and  asked  for  a 
cup  of  chocolate  at  one  of  the  little,  deadly  re- 
spectable-looking marble  tables.  Also  I  asked 
to  see  an  evening  paper. 

It  was  a  shock  to  find  Ivor's  photograph,  hor- 
ribly reproduced,  gazing  at  me  from  the  front 
page.  The  photograph  was  an  old  one,  which 
had  been  a  good  deal  shown  in  shop  windows, 
much  to  Ivor's  disgust,  at  about  the  time  when 
he  returned  from  his  great  expedition  and  pub- 
lished his  really  wonderful  book.  I  had  seen  it 
before  I  met  him,  and  as  it  must  have  been  on 
sale  in  Paris  as  well  as  London,  it  had  been  easy 
enough  for  the  newspaper  people  to  get  it. 
Then  there  came  the  story  of  the  murder,  built 
up  dramatically.  Hating  it,  sickened  by  it,  I 
yet  read  it  all.  I  knew  where  to  go  to  find  the 
house,  and  I  knew  that  the  murder  had  been 
committed  in  a  back  room  on  the  top  floor.  Also 
I  saw  the  picture  of  the  window  with  the  bal- 
cony. Ivor  was  supposed — according  to  Gi- 
rard, the  detective — to  have  tried  in  vain  to 
escape  by  way  of  this  high  balcony,  on  hearing 
sounds  outside  the  door  while  busy  in  searching 
the  dead  man's  room.  Girard  said  that  he  had 
seen  him  first,  by  the  light  of  a  bull's-eye  lan- 
tern, which  he — Girard — carried,  standing  at 
bay  in  the  open  window.  There  was  a  photo- 
graph of  this  window,  taken  from  outside. 
There  was  the  balcony:  and  there  was  the  bal- 


262     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

cony  of  another  window  with  another  balcony 
just  like  it,  on  the  adjoining  house.  I  looked  at 
the  picture,  and  judged  that  there  would  not 
be  more  than  two  feet  of  distance  between  the 
railings  of  those  two  balconies. 

'  That  would  be  my  way  to  get  there — if  I  can 
get  there  at  all,"  I  said  to  myself.  But  there 
was  hardly  any  "  if  "  left  in  my  mind  now.  I 
meant  to  get  there. 

By  this  time  it  was  after  five  o'clock.  I  left 
the  Duval  restaurant,  and  again  took  a  cab. 
The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  send  a  petit  bleu  to 
Aunt  Lilian,  saying  that  she  wasn't  to  worry 
about  me.  I'd  been  hipped  and  nervous,  and  had 
gone  out  to  see  a  friend  who  was — I'd  just  found 
out — staying  in  Paris.  Perhaps  I  should  stop 
with  the  friend  to  dinner;  but  at  latest  I  should 
be  back  by  nine  or  ten  o'clock.  That  would  save 
a  bother  at  the  hotel  (for  Aunt  Lilian  knew  I 
had  heaps  of  American  friends  who  came  every 
year  to  Paris),  yet  no  one  would  know  where 
to  search  for  me,  even  if  they  were  inclined. 

Next,  I  drove  to  a  street  near  the  Rue  de  la 
Fille  Sauvage>  and  dismissed  my  cab.  I  asked 
for  no  directions,  but  after  one  or  two  mistakes, 
found  the  street  I  wanted.  Instead  of  going  to 
the  house  of  the  murder,  I  passed  on  to  the  next 
house  on  the  left — the  house  of  the  balcony  al- 
most adjoining  the  dead  man's. 

I  rang  the  bell  for  the  concierge,  and  asked 
him  if  there  were  any  rooms  to  let  in  the  house. 


UNDERTAKES   AN   ERRAND     263 

I  knew  already  that  there  were,  for  I  could  see 
the  advertisement  of  "  Chambres  a  louer"  star- 
ing me  in  the  face :  but  I  spoke  French  as  badly; 
as  I  could,  making  three  mistakes  to  every  sen- 
tence, and  begged  the  man  to  talk  slowly  in  an- 
swering me. 

There  were  several  rooms  to  be  had,  it  ap- 
peared, but  it  would  have  been  too  good  to  be 
true  that  the  one  I  wanted  should  be  empty. 
After  we  had  jabbered  awhile,  I  made  the  con- 
cierge understand  that  I  was  a  young  American 
journalist,  employed  by  a  New  York  paper.  I 
wanted  to  "  write  up  "  the  murder  of  last  night, 
according  to  my  own  ideas,  and  as  of  course  the 
police  wouldn't  let  me  go  into  the  room  where 
it  happened,  the  next  best  thing  would  be  to  take 
the  room  close  to  it,  in  the  house  adjoining.  I 
wanted  to  be  there  only  long  enough  to  "  get 
the  emotion,  the  sensation,"  I  explained,  so  as 
to  make  my  article  really  dramatic.  Would  the 
people  who  occupied  that  room  let  it  to  me  for 
a  few  hours?  Long  before  bedtime  they  could 
have  it  back  again,  if  I  got  on  well  with  my 
writing. 

The  concierge,  to  whom  I  gave  ten  francs  as 
a  kind  of  retaining  fee,  was  almost  sure  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  room  (an  old  man  and  his  wife) 
would  willingly  agree  to  such  a  proposal,  if  I 
paid  them  well  enough  for  their  trouble  in  turn- 
ing out. 

Would  three  louis  be  enough?  I  asked.    The 


264    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

concierge — whose  eyes  brightened — thought  that 
it  would.  I  knew  by  his  look  that  he  would  take 
a  large  commission  for  manging  the  affair,  as  he 
quickly  offered  to  do;  but  that  didn't  matter  to 
me. 

He  confirmed  my  idea  that  it  would  have  been 
hopeless  to  try  and  get  into  the  room  of  the  mur- 
der itself,  even  if  I  could  have  borne  it,  saying 
that  the  door,  and  window  too,  had  been  sealed 
by  the  police,  who  were  also  guarding  the  house 
from  curiosity  seekers ;  but  he  added  that  I  could 
see  the  shut  window  from  the  balcony  of  the 
room  I  was  going  to  hire. 

I  waited  for  him,  and  played  with  his  very 
unattractive  baby  while  he  went  upstairs  to 
make  enquiries.  He  was  gone  for  some  time, 
explaining  to  the  people;  but  at  last,  when  my 
patience  was  almost  too  far  strained,  he  came 
back  to  say  that  Monsieur  and  Madame  Nissot 
had  consented  to  go  out  of  their  room  for  the 
evening.  They  were  dining  at  the  moment,  how- 
ever, and  Mademoiselle  must  be  pleased  to  wait 
a  few  moments  until  they  finished  the  meal  and 
gathered  up  a  few  things  which  they  could  carry 
to  a  neighbour's :  books,  and  work  for  their  hours 
of  absence,  the  concierge  politely  suggested. 
But  that  was  to  save  my  feelings,  no  doubt,  for 
I  was  sure  the  husband  and  wife  meant  to  make 
a  parcel  of  any  valuables  which  could  possibly 
be  carried  off  by  an  unscrupulous  American 
journalist.  Also,  they  stipulated  that  payment 


UNDERTAKES   AN   ERRAND    265 

must  be  made  in  advance.  To  this  I  agreed  will- 
ingly. And  then — I  waited,  waited.  It  was 
tedious,  but  after  all,  the  tediousness  didn't  mat- 
ter much  when  I  came  to  think  of  it.  It  would 
be  impossible  to  do  the  thing  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  do,  till  after  dark. 


MAXINE  DE  RENZIE'S  PART 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN 

WE  looked  everywhere,  in  all  possible  places, 
for  the  diamond  necklace,  Raoul  and  I;  and  to 
him,  poor  fellow,  its  second  loss  seemed  over- 
whelming. He  did  not  see  in  glaring  scarlet 
letters  always  before  his  eyes  these  two  words: 
'  The  treaty,"  as  I  did — for  my  punishment. 
He  was  in  happy  ignorance  still  of  that  other 
loss  which  I — I,  to  whom  his  honour  should  have 
been  sacred — had  inflicted  upon  him.  He  was 
satisfied  with  my  story;  that  through  a  person 
employed  by  me — a  person  whose  name  could 
not  yet  be  mentioned,  even  to  him — the  neck- 
lace had  been  snatched  from  the  thief  who  had 
stolen  it.  He  blamed  himself  mercilessly  for 
thinking  so  little  of  the  brocade  bag  which  I  had 
given  him  at  parting,  for  letting  all  remem- 
brance of  my  words  concerning  it  be  put  out 
of  his  mind  by  his  "  wicked  jealousy,"  as  he 
repentantly  called  it.  For  me,  he  had  nothing 
but  praise  and  gratitude  for  what  I  had  done 
for  him.  He  begged  me  to  forgive  him,  and  his 
remorse  for  such  a  small  thing,  comparatively — 
wrung  my  heart. 

We  searched  the  garden  and  the  whole  street, 

269 


270    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

then  came  back  to  search  the  little  drawing-room 
for  the  second  time,  in  vain.  It  did  seem  that 
there  was  witchcraft  in  it,  as  I  said  to  Raoul ;  but 
at  last  I  persuaded  him  to  go  away,  and  follow 
his  own  track  wrherever  he  had  been  since  I  gave 
him  the  bag  with  the  diamonds.  It  was  just 
possible,  as  it  was  so  late,  and  his  way  had  led 
him  through  quiet  streets,  that  even  after  all  this 
time  the  little  brocade  bag  might  be  lying  where 
he  had  left  it — or  that  some  honest  policeman 
on  his  beat  might  have  picked  it  up.  Besides, 
there  was  the  cab  in  which  he  had  come  part  of 
the  distance  to  my  house.  The  bag  might  have 
fallen  on  the  floor  while  he  drove :  and  there  were 
many  honest  cabmen  in  Paris,  I  reminded  him, 
trying  to  be  as  cheerful  as  I  could. 

So  he  left  me.  And  I  was  deadly  tired ;  but  I 
had  no  thought  of  sleep — no  wish  for  it.  When 
I  had  unlocked  the  door  of  my  boudoir  and 
found  Ivor  Dundas  gone,  as  I  had  hoped  he 
would  be,  the  next  hope  born  in  my  heart  was 
that  he  might  by  and  by  come  back,  or  send — 
with  news.  Hour  after  hour  of  deadly  suspense 
passed  on,  and  he  did  not  come  or  make  any  sign. 
At  five  o'clock  Marianne,  who  had  flitted  about 
all  night  like  a  restless  ghost,  made  me  drink  a 
cup  of  hot  chocolate,  and  actually  put  me  to  bed. 
My  last  words  to  her  were:  "What  is  the  use? 
I  can't  sleep.  It  will  be  worse  to  lie  and  toss 
in  a  fever,  than  sit  up." 


MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    271 

Yet  I  did  sleep,  and  heavily.  She  will  always 
deny  it,  I  know,  but  I'm  sure  she  must  have  slyly 
slipped  a  sleeping-powder  into  the  chocolate.  I 
was  far  too  much  occupied  with  my  own  thoughts, 
as  I  drank  to  please  her,  to  think  whether  or 
no  there  was  anything  at  all  peculiar  in  the 
taste. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  I  slept;  and  when  I  waked 
suddenly,  starting  out  of  a  hateful  dream  (yet 
scarcely  worse  than  realities) ,  to  my  horror  it  was 
nearly  noon. 

I  was  wild  with  fear  lest  the  servants,  in  their 
stupid  but  well-meant  wish  not  to  disturb  me, 
might  have  sent  important  visitors  away.  How- 
ever, when  Marianne  came  flying  in,  in  answer 
to  my  long  peal  of  the  electric  bell,  she  said  that 
no  one  had  been.  There  were  letters  and  one 
telegram,  and  all  the  morning  papers,  as  usual 
after  the  first  night  of  a  new  play. 

My  heart  gave  a  spring  at  the  news  that  there 
was  a  telegram,  for  I  thought  it  might  be  from 
Ivor,  saying  he  was  on  the  track  of  the  treaty, 
even  if  he  hadn't  yet  got  hold  of  it.  But  the 
message  was  from  Raoul ;  and  he  had  not  found 
the  brocade  bag.  He  did  not  put  this  in  so  many 
words,  but  said,  "  I  have  not  found  what  was 
lost,  or  learned  anything  of  it." 

From  Ivor  there  was  not  a  line,  and  I  thought 
this  cruel.  He  might  have  wired,  or  written  me 
a  note,  even  if  there  were  nothing  definite  to  say. 


272     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

He  might,  unless — something  had  happened  to 
him.  There  was  that  to  think  of;  and  I  did  think 
of  it,  with  dread,  and  a  growing  presentiment 
that  I  had  not  suffered  yet  all  I  was  to  suffer.  I 
determined  to  send  a  servant  to  the  ^lysee  Palace 
Hotel  to  enquire  for  him,  and  despatched  Henri 
immediately.  Meanwhile,  as  there  was  nothing 
to  do,  after  pretending  to  eat  breakfast  under 
the  watchful  eyes  of  Marianne,  I  pretended  also 
to  read  the  newspaper  notices  of  the  play.  But 
each  sentence  went  out  of  my  head  before  I  had 
begun  the  next.  I  knew  in  the  end  only  that,  ac- 
cording to  all  the  critics,  Maxine  de  Renzie  had 
"  surpassed  herself,"  had  been  "  astonishingly 
great,"  had  done  "  what  no  woman  could  do  un- 
less she  threw  her  whole  soul  into  her  part." 
How  little  they  knew  where  Maxine  de  Renzie's 
soul  had  been  last  night !  And — only  God  knew 
where  it  might  be  this  night.  Out  of  her  body, 
perhaps — the  one  way  of  escape  from  Raoul's 
hatred,  if  he  had  come  to  know  the  truth. 

Of  course  the  enquiry  at  the  hotel  was  not  for 
Ivor  Dundas,  but  for  the  name  he  had  adopted 
there;  yet  when  my  servant  came  back  to  me  he 
had  nothing  to  tell  which  was  consoling — rather 
the  other  way.  The  gentleman  had  gone  out 
about  midnight  (I  knew  that  already),  and 
hadn't  returned  since.  Henri  had  been  to  the 
Bureau  to  ask,  and  it  had  struck  him,  he  ad- 
mitted to  me  on  being  catechised,  that  his  ques- 
tions had  been  answered  with  a  certain  reserve, 


MAXIXE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    273 

as  if  more  were  known  of  the  absent  gentle- 
man's movements  than  it  was  considered  wise  to 
tell. 

lily  servant  had  not  been  long  away,  though 
it  seemed  long  to  me,  and  he  had  delayed  only 
to  buy  all  the  evening  papers,  which  he  "  thought 
that  Mademoiselle  would  like  to  see,  as  they 
were  sure  to  be  filled  with  praise  of  her  great 
acting."  It  was  on  my  tongue  to  scold  him  for 
stopping  even  one  moment,  when  he  had  been 
told  to  hurry,  but  he  looked  so  pleased  at  his  own 
cleverness  that  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  dash  his 
happiness.  I  would,  however,  have  pushed  the 
papers  aside  without  so  much  as  glancing  at 
them,  if  it  hadn't  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that, 
if  any  accident  had  befallen  Ivor,  news  of 
it  might  possibly  have  got  into  print  by  this 
time. 

When  I  read  what  had  happened — how  he  was 
accused  of  murder,  and  while  declaring  his  in- 
nocence had  been  silent  as  to  all  those  events 
which  might  have  proved  it,  my  heart  wrent  out 
to  him  in  a  wave  of  gratitude.  Here  was  a  man ! 
A  man  loyal  and  brave  and  chivalrous  as  all  men 
ought  to  be,  but  few  are !  He  had  sacrificed  him- 
self to  the  death,  no  doubt,  to  keep  my  name  out 
of  the  mud  into  which  my  business  had  thrown 
him,  and  to  save  me  from  appearing  in  Raoul's 
eyes  the  liar  that  I  was.  Had  Ivor  told  that  he 
was  with  me,  after  I  had  prevaricated  (if  I  had 
not  actually  lied)  to  Raoul  about  the  midnight 


274     THE    POWERS   AND   MAXIXE 

visitor  to  my  house,  what  would  Raoul  think 
of  me? 

Ivor  was  trying  to  save  me,  if  he  could ;  and  he 
had  been  trying  to  save  me  when  he  went  to  the 
room  of  that  dead  man,  though  how  and  when 
he  had  decided  to  go  I  knew  not.  If  it  were  not 
for  me,  he  would  be  free  and  happy  to-day. 

My  conscience  cried  out  that  the  one  thing  to 
do  was  to  go  at  once  to  the  Chief  of  Police  and 
say:  "Monsieur,  this  English  gentleman  they 
have  arrested  cannot  have  committed  a  mur- 
der in  the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage,  bet  wee* 
twelve  and  one  last  night,  for  he  came  t* 
my  house,  far  away  in  the  Rue  d'Hollande,  at  a 
quarter  past  twelve,  and  didn't  leave  it  till  after 
one  o'clock." 

I  even  sprang  up  from  my  chair  in  the  very 
room  where  I  had  hidden  Ivor,  to  ring  for  Mari- 
anne and  tell  her  to  bring  me  a  hat  and  coat,  t« 
bid  her  order  my  electric  brougham  immediately. 
But — I  sat  down  again,  sick  and  despairing,  de- 
liberately crushing  the  generous  impulse.  I 
couldn't  obey  it.  I  dared  not.  By  and  by, 
perhaps.  If  Ivor  should  be  in  real  pressing 
danger,  then  certainly.  But  not  now. 

At  four  o'clock  Raoul  came,  and  was  with  me 
for  an  hour.  Each  of  us  tried  to  cheer  the  other. 
I  did  all  I  could  to  make  him  hope  that  even  yet 
he  would  have  news  of  the  brocade  bag  and  its 
contents.  He,  thinking  me  ill  and  tired  out,  did 
all  he  could  to  persuade  me  that  he  was  not  mis- 


MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    275 

erable  with  anxiety.  At  least,  he  was  no  longer 
jealous  of  Godensky  or  of  any  man,  and  was 
humbly  repentant  for  his  suspicions  of  me  the 
night  before.  When  Raoul  is  repentant,  and 
wishes  to  atone  for  something  that  he  has  done, 
he  is  enchanting.  There  was  never  a  man  like 
him. 

At  five  I  sent  him  away,  with  the  excuse  that 
I  must  rest,  as  I  hadn't  slept  much  the  night  be- 
fore; but  really  it  was  because  I  feared  lest  I 
should  disgrace  myself  before  him  by  breaking 
down,  and  giving  him  a  fright — or  perhaps  even 
by  being  mad  enough  to  confess  the  thing  I  had 
done.  I  felt  that  I  was  no  longer  mistress  of  my- 
self— that  I  might  be  capable  of  any  folly. 

I  could  not  eat,  but  I  drank  a  little  beef -tea  be- 
fore starting  for  the  theatre,  where  I  went  earlier 
than  usual.  It  would  be  something  to  be  busy; 
and  in  my  part  I  might  even  forget  for  a  mo- 
ment, now  and  then. 

Marianne  and  I  were  in  my  dressing-room  be- 
fore seven.-  I  insisted  on  dressing  at  once,  and 
took  as  long  as  I  could  in  the  process  of  making 
up;  still,  when  I  was  ready  there  was  more  than 
half  an  hour  to  spare  before  the  first  act. 
There  were  letters  for  me — the  kind  that  always 
come  to  the  theatre — but  I  couldn't  read  them, 
after  I  had  occupied  myself  with  tearing  open 
the  envelopes.  I  knew  what  they  would  be :  vows 
of  adoration  from  strangers;  poems  by  budding 
poets ;  petitions  for  advice  from  girls  and  young 


276    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

men  who  wanted  to  go  on  the  stage;  requests 
from  artists  who  wanted  to  paint  my  picture. 
There  were  always  such  things  every  night,  es- 
pecially after  the  opening  of  a  new  play. 

I  was  still  aimlessly  breaking  fantastic  seals, 
and  staring  unseeingly  at  crests  and  coronets, 
when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  Marianne 
opened  it,  to  speak  for  a  moment  with  the  stage 
door  keeper. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  she  whispered,  coming  to  me, 
"  Monsieur  le  Comte  Godensky  wishes  to  see  you. 
Shall  I  say  you  are  not  receiving?  " 

I  thought  for  a  moment.  Better  see  him,  per- 
haps. I  might  learn  something.  If  not — if  he 
had  only  come  to  torture  me  uselessly  to  please 
himself,  I  would  soon  find  out,  and  could  send 
him  away. 

I  went  into  my  little  reception-room  adjoining, 
and  received  him  there.  He  advanced,  smiling, 
as  one  advances  to  a  friend  of  whose  welcome 
one  is  sure. 

"Well?"  I  asked,  abruptly,  when  the  door 
was  shut  and  we  were  alone.  He  held  out  his 
hand,  but  I  put  mine  behind  me,  and  drew  back 
a  step  when  he  had  come  too  close. 

"  Well — I  have  news  for  you,  that  no  one  else 
could  bring,  so  I  thought  you  would  be  glad  to 
see — even  me,"  he  answered,  smiling  still. 

"  What  news?  But  bad,  of  course — or  you 
wouldn't  bring  it." 

"  You  are  very  cruel.    Of  course,  you've  seen 


MAXIXE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    277 

the  evening  papers?  You  know  that  your  Eng- 
lish friend  is  in  prison?  " 

"  The  same  English  friend  whom  you  would 
have  liked  to  see  arrested  early  last  evening  on 
a  ridiculous,  baseless  charge,"  I  flung  at  him. 
"  You  look  surprised.  But  you  are  not  sur- 
prised, Count  Godensky — except,  perhaps,  that 
I  should  guess  who  had  me  spied  upon  at  the 
iClysee  Palace  Hotel.  A  disappointment,  that 
affair,  wasn't  it?  But  you  haven't  told  me  your 
news." 

"  It  is  this:  That  Mr.  Ivor  Dundas,  of  Eng- 
land, has  been  on  the  rack  to-day." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  He  has  been  in  the  hands  of  the  Juge  d'ln- 
struction.  It  is  much  the  same,  isn't  it,  if  one 
has  secrets  to  keep?  Would  you  like  to  know, 
if  some  magical  bird  could  tell  you,  what  ques- 
tions were  put  to  Mr.  Dundas,  and  what  an- 
swers he  made? " 

Strange,  that  this  very  thought  had  been  tor- 
turing me  before  Godensky  came!  I  had  been 
thinking  of  the  Juge  d'Instruction,  and  his  ter- 
rible cross-examination  which  only  a  man  of  steel 
or  iron  can  answer  without  trembling.  I  had 
thought  that  questions  had  been  asked  and  an- 
swers given  which  might  mean  everything  to  me, 
if  I  could  only  have  heard  them.  Could  it  be 
that  I  was  to  hear,  now  ?  But  I  reminded  myself 
that  this  was  impossible.  Xo  one  could  know 
except  the  Juge  d'Instruction  and  Ivor  Dundas 


278     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

himself.  "  Only  two  men  were  present  at  that 
scene,  and  they  will  never  tell  what  went  on,"  I 
said  aloud. 

'  Three  men  were  present,"  Godensky  an- 
swered. "  Besides  the  two  of  whom  you  think, 
there  was  another:  a  lawyer  who  speaks  English. 
It  is  permitted  nowadays  that  a  foreigner,  if 
he  demands  it,  can  be  accompanied  by  his  legal 
adviser  when  he  goes  before  the  Juge  d' Instruc- 
tion. Otherwise,  his  lack  of  knowledge  of  the 
language  might  handicap  him,  and  cause  mis- 
understandings which  would  prejudice  his  case." 

He  paused  a  moment,  but  I  did  not  reply.  I 
knew  that  Ivor  Dundas  spoke  French  as  well  as 
I;  but  I  was  not  going  to  tell  this  Russian  that 
fact. 

"  The  adviser  your  friend  has  chosen,"  Goden- 
sky went  on,  "  happens  to  be  a  protege  of  mine. 
I  made  him — gave  him  his  first  case,  his  first  suc- 
cess; and  have  employed  him  more  than  once 
since.  Odd,  what  a  penchant  Mr.  Dundas  seems 
to  have  for  men  in  whom  I,  too,  have  confidence! 
Last  night,  it  was  Girard.  To-day,  it  is  Le- 
normand." 

This  was  a  blow,  and  a  heavy  one;  but  I 
wouldn't  let  Godensky  see  that  I  winced 
under  it. 

'  You  keep  yourself  singularly  well-informed 
of  the  movements  of  your  various  proteges,"  I 
said — "  as  well  as  those  of  your  enemies.  But  if 
the  information  in  the  one  case  is  no  more  trust- 


MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    279 

worthy  than  in  the  other — why,  you're  not  faith- 
fully served.  I've  good  reason  to  know  that 
you've  made  several  mistakes  lately,  and  you're 
likely  to  make  more." 

'  Thanks  for  the  warning.  But  I  hope  you 
don't  call  yourself  my  *  enemy'?  " 

"  I  don't  know  of  a  more  appropriate  name — 
after  the  baseness  that  you  haven't  even  tried  to 
hide,  in  your  dealings  with  me." 

"  I  thought  all  was  fair  in  love  and  war." 

"Do  you  make  war  on  women? " 

"  No — I  make  love  to  them." 

'  To  many,  I  dare  say.  But  here  is  one  who 
won't  listen." 

"  At  least  you  will  listen  while  I  go  on  with 
the  news  I  came  to  tell? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  confess  to  being  curious.  No 
doubt  what  you  say  will  be  interesting — even  if 
not  accurate." 

"  I  can  promise  that  it  shall  be  both.  I  called 
on  Lenormand  as  soon  as  I  learned  what  had 
happened — that  he'd  been  mixed  up  in  this  case 
— and  expressed  myself  as  extremely  concerned 
for  the  fate  of  his  client,  friends  of  whom  were 
intimate  friends  of  mine.  So  you  see,  there  was 
no  question  of  treachery  on  Lenormand's  part. 
He  trusts  me — as  you  do  not.  Indeed,  I  even 
offered  my  help  for  Dundas,  if  I  could  give  it 
consistently  with  my  position.  Naturally,  he 
told  me  nothing  which  could  be  used  against 
Dundas,  so  far  as  he  knew,  even  if  I  wished  to 


280    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

go  against  him — which  my  coming  here  ought  to 
prove  to  you  that  I  do  not." 

"  I  read  the  proof  rather  differently,"  I  said. 
"  But  go  on.  I'm  sure  you  are  anxious  to  tell 
me  certain  things.  Please  come  to  the  point." 

"  In  a  few  words,  then,  the  point  is  this :  One 
of  the  most  important  questions  put  by  the  Juge 
d'Instruction,  after  hearing  from  Mr.  Dundas 
the  explanation  of  a  document  found  on  him  by 
the  police — ah,  that  wakes  you  up,  Mademoi- 
selle! You  are  surprised  that  a  document  was 
found  on  the  prisoner?  " 

I  was  half  fainting  with  fear  lest  Ivor  had 
regained  the  treaty,  only  to  lose  it  again  in  this 
dreadful  way;  but  I  controlled  myself. 

"  I  rather  hope  it  was  not  a  letter  from  me,"  I 
said.  '  You  know  so  much,  that  you  probably 
know  I  admitted  to  the  police  at  the  Elysee 
Palace  a  strong  friendship  for  Mr.  Dundas. 
We  knew  each  other  well  in  London.  But  Lon- 
don ways  are  different  from  the  ways  of  Paris. 
It  isn't  agreeable  to  be  gossipped  about,  how- 
ever unjustly,  even  if  one  is — only  an  actress." 

"You  turn  things  cleverly,  as  always.  Yes, 
you  are  afraid  there  might  have  been — a  letter. 
Yet  the  public  adores  you.  It  would  pardon  you 
any  indiscretion,  especially  a  romantic  one — any 
indiscretion  except  treachery.  There  might, 
however,  be  a  few  persons  less  indulgent.  Du 
Laurier,  for  instance." 

I  shivered.    "  We  were  speaking  of  the  scene 


MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    281 

with  the  Juge  d'Instruction,"  I  reminded  him. 
"  You  have  wandered  from  the  point  again." 

"  There  are  so  many  points — all  sharp  as 
swords  for  those  they  may  pierce.  Well,  the  im- 
portant question  was  in  relation  to  a  letter — yes. 
But  the  letter  was  not  from  you,  Mademoiselle. 
It  was  written  in  English,  and  it  made  an  ap- 
pointment at  the  very  address  where  the  crime 
was  committed.  It  was,  as  nearly  as  I  could 
make  out,  a  request  from  a  person  calling  him- 
self a  jeweller's  assistant,  for  the  receiver  of  the 
letter  to  call  and  return  a  case  containing  jewels. 
This  case  had  been  committed  to  Mr.  Dundas' 
care,  it  appeared,  while  travelling  from  London 
to  Paris,  and  without  his  knowledge,  another 
packet  being  taken  away  to  make  room  for  this. 
Mr.  Dundas  replied  to  the  Juge  d'Instruction 
that  his  own  packet,  stolen  from  him  on  the 
journey,  contained  nothing  but  papers  entirely 
personal,  concerning  himself  alone. 

*  What  was  in  the  case  which  the  man  after- 
wards   murdered     slipped    into   your   pocket? ' 
asked  the  Juge  d'Instruction — Lenormand  tells 
me. 

*  A  necklace,'  answered  Mr.  Dundas. 

*  A  necklace  of  diamonds? ' 

" '  Possibly  diamonds,  possibly  paste,  I  wasn't 
much  interested  in  it.' 

'  Ah,  was  this  not  the  necklace  which  you — 
staying  at  the  £lysee  Palace  under  another 
name — gave  to  Mademoiselle  Maxine  de  Renzie 


282     THE    POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

last  evening  ? '  was  the  next  question  thrown  sud- 
denly at  Mr.  Dundas'  head.  Now,  you  see, 
Mademoiselle,  that  my  story  is  not  dull." 

"  Am  I  to  hear  the  rest — according  to  your 
protege?"  I  asked,  twisting  my  handkerchief, 
as  I  should  have  liked  to  twist  Godensky's  neck, 
till  he  had  no  more  breath  or  wickedness  left  in 
him. 

"  Mr.  Dundas  tried  his  best  to  convince  the 
Juge  d'Instruction,  a  most  clever  and  experi- 
enced man,  that  if  he  had,  as  an  old  friend, 
brought  you  a  present  of  diamonds,  it  was  some- 
thing entirely  different,  and  therefore  far  re- 
moved from  this  case. 

*  Are  you  not  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie's 
lover  ? '  was  the  next  enquiry.  '  I  admire  her,  as 
do  thousands  of  others,  who  also  respect  her  as 
I  do,'  your  friend  returned  very  prettily.  At 
last,  dearest  lady,  you  begin  to  see  what  there  is 
in  this  string  of  questions  and  answers  to  bring 
me  straight  to  you?  " 

"  No,  Count  Godensky,  I  do  not,"  I  answered 
steadily.  But  a  sudden  illuminating  ray  did 
show  me,  even  as  I  spoke,  what  might  be  in  his 
scheming  mind. 

'  Then  I  must  be  clear,  and,  above  all,  frank. 
Du  Laurier  loves  you.  You  love  him.  You 
mean,  I  think,  to  marry  him.  But  deeply  in 
love  as  he  is,  he  is  a  very  proud  fellow.  He  will 
have  all  or  nothing,  if  I  judge  him  well;  and  he 
would  not  take  for  his  wife  a  woman  who  ac- 


MAXINE    MAKES    A   BARGAIN    283 

cepts  diamonds  from  another  man,  saying  as  she 
takes  them  that  he  is  her  lover." 

;'  He  wouldn't  believe  it  of  me !  "  I  cried. 
'  There  is  a  way  of  convincing  him.     Oh,  J 
shall  not  tell  him !    But  he  shall  see  in  writing  all 
that  passed  between  the  Juge  d'Instruction  and 
Mr.  Dundas,  unless— 

"Unless? — but  I  know  what  you  mean  to 
threaten.  You  repeat  yourself." 

"  Not  quite,  for  I  have  new  arguments,  and 
stronger  ones.  I  want  you,  Maxine.  I  mean 
to  have  you — or  I  will  crush  you,  and  now  you 
know  I  can.  Choose." 

I  sprang  up,  and  looked  at  him.  Perhaps  there 
was  murder  in  my  eyes,  as  for  a  moment  there 
was  in  my  heart,  for  he  exclaimed: 

'  Tigeress!  You  would  kill  me  if  you  could. 
But  that  doesn't  make  me  love  you  less.  Would 
du  Laurier  have  you  if  he  knew  what  you  are 
—as  he  will  know  soon  unless  you  let  me  save 
you?  Yet  I — I  would  love  you  if  you  were  a 
murderess  as  well  as  a — spy." 

"  It  is  you  who  are  a  spy!  "  I  faltered,  now  all 
but  broken. 

"  If  I  am,  I  haven't  spied  in  vain.  Not  only 
can  I  ruin  you  with  du  Laurier,  and  before  the 
world,  but  I  can  ruin  him  utterly  and  in  all 
ways." 

"  Xo — no,"  I  gasped.  "  You  cannot.  You're 
boasting.  You  can  do  nothing." 

"  Nothing  to-night,  perhaps.     I'm  not  speak- 


284    THE   POWERS   AND   MAXINE 

ing  of  to-night.  I  am  giving  you  time.  But  to- 
morrow— or  the  day  after.  It's  much  the  same 
to  me.  At  first,  when  I  began  to  suspect 
that  something  had  been  taken  from  its  place, 
I  had  no  proof.  I  had  to  get  that,  and  I  did 
get  it — nearly  all  I  wanted.  This  affair  of 
Dundas  might  have  been  planned  for  my  ad- 
vantage. It  is  perfect.  All  its  complications 
are  just  so  many  links  in  a  chain  for  me.  Girard 
— the  man  Dundas  chose  to  employ — was  the 
very  man  I'd  sent  to  England;  on  what  errand, 
do  you  think?  To  watch  your  friend  the  British 
Foreign  Secretary.  He  followed  Dundas  to 
Paris  on  the  bare  suspicion  that  there'd  been 
communication  between  the  two,  and  he  was  pre- 
paring a  report  for  me  when — Dundas  called 
on  him." 

;<  What  connection  can  Ivor  Dundas'  coming 
to  Paris  have  with  Raoul  du  Laurier?  "  I  dared 
to  ask. 

*  You  know  best  as  to  that." 

'  They  have  never  met.  Both  are  men  of 
honour,  and " 

"  Men  of  honour  are  tricked  by  women  some- 
times, and  then  they  have  to  suffer  for  being 
fools,  as  if  they  had  been  villains.  Think  what 
such  a  man — a  man  of  honour,  as  you  say — 
would  feel  when  he  found  out  the  woman !  " 

"  A  woman  can  be  calumniated  as  well  as  a 
man,"  I  said.  '  You  are  so  unscrupulous  you 
would  stoop  to  anything,  I  know  that.  Raoul 


MAXINE    MAKES    A   BARGAIN    285 

du  Laurier  has  done  nothing;  I — I  have  done 
nothing  of  which  to  be  ashamed.  Yet  you  can 
lie  about  us,  ruin  him  perhaps  by  a  plot,  as  if  he 
were  guilty,  and — and  do  terrible  harm  to  me." 

"  I  can — without  the  trouble  of  lying.  And 
I  will,  unless  you'll  give  up  du  Laurier  and 
make  up  your  mind  to  marry  me.  I  always 
meant  to  have  you.  You  are  the  one  woman 
worthy  of  me." 

'  You  are  the  man  most  unworthy  of  any 
woman.  But,  give  me  till  to-morrow  evening—- 
at this  time — to  decide.  Will  you  promise  me 
that?" 

"  No,  I  know  what  you  would  do.  You  would 
kill  yourself.  It  is  what  is  in  your  mind  now. 
I  won't  risk  losing  you.  I  have  waited  long 
enough  already.  Give  me  a  ring  of  yours,  and 
a  written  word  from  you  to  du  Laurier,  saying 
that  you  find  you  have  made  a  mistake ;  and  not 
only  will  I  do  nothing  to  injure  him,  but  will 
guard  against  the  discovery  of — you  know  what. 
Besides,  as  a  matter  of  course,  I'll  bring  all  my 
influence  to  bear  in  keeping  your  name  out  of 
this  or  any  other  scandal.  I  can  do  much,  every- 
thing indeed,  for  I  admit  that  it  was  through  me 
the  Commissary  of  Police  trapped  you  with 
Dundas.  I  will  say  that  I  blundered.  I  know 
what  to  do  to  save  you,  and  I  will  do  it — for  my 
future  wife." 

"  No  power  on  earth  could  induce  me  to  break 
with  Raoul  du  Laurier  in  the  way  you  wish,"  I 


286     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

said.  "  If — if  I  am  to  give  him  up,  I  must  tell 
him  with  my  own  lips,  and  bid  him  good-bye.  I 
will  do  this  to-morrow,  if  you  will  hold  your 
hand  until  then." 

We  looked  at  each  other  for  a  long  moment 
in  silence.  Godensky  was  trying  to  read  my 
mind,  and  to  make  up  his  accordingly. 

'  You  swear  by  everything  you  hold  sacred  to 
break  with  him  to-morrow?" 

"By  the  memory  of  my  father  and  mother, 
martyred  by  bureaucrats  like  you,  I  pledge  my 
word  that — that — if  I  can't  break  with  Raoul, 
to  let  you  know  the  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
and  dare  you  to  do — what  you  will." 

'  You  will  not  '  dare  '  me,  I  think.  And  be- 
cause I  think  so,  I  will  wait — a  little  longer." 

"  Until  this  time  to-morrow? " 

"  No.  For  if  you  cheated  me,  it  would  be  too 
late  to  act  for  another  twelve  hours.  But  I  will 
give  you  till  to-morrow  noon.  You  agree  to 
that?" 

"  I  agree."  My  lips  formed  the  words.  I 
hardly  spoke  them;  but  he  understood,  and  with 
a  flash  in  his  eyes  took  a  step  towards  me  as  if 
to  snatch  my  hand.  I  drew  away.  He  fol- 
lowed, but  at  this  instant  Marianne  appeared  at 
the  door. 

'  There  is  a  young  lady  to  see  Mademoiselle," 
she  announced,  her  good-natured,  open  face 
showing  all  her  dislike  of  Count  Godensky.  "  A 
young  lady  who  sends  this  note,  begging  that 


MAXINE   MAKES   A   BARGAIN    287 

Mademoiselle  will  read  it  at  once,  and  consent  to 
see  her." 

Thankful  that  the  tete-a-tete  had  been  inter- 
rupted, I  held  out  my  hand  for  the  letter.  Mari- 
anne gave  it  to  me.  I  glanced  at  the  name  writ- 
ten below  the  lines  which  only  half  filled  the 
first  page  of  theatre  paper,  and  found  it  strange 
to  me.  But,  even  if  I  had  not  been  ready  to 
snatch  at  the  chance  of  ridding  myself  im- 
mediately of  Godensky,  the  few  words  above  the 
unfamiliar  name  would  have  made  me  say  as  I 
did  say,  "  Bring  the  young  lady  in  at  once." 

"  I  come  to  you  from  Mr.  Dundas,  on  busi- 
ness which  he  told  me  was  of  the  greatest  and 
most  pressing  importance. 

"  DIANA  FORREST." 

That  was  the  whole  contents  of  the  note;  but 
a  dozen  sheets  closely  filled  with  arguments  could 
not  have  moved  me  more. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MAXINE  MEETS  DIANA 

GODENSKY  was  obliged  to  take  his  leave,  which 
he  did  abruptly,  but  to  all  appearance  with  a 
good  grace;  and  when  he  was  gone  Marianne 
ushered  in  a  girl — a  tall,  beautiful  girl  in  a  grey 
tailor  dress  built  by  an  artist. 

For  such  time  as  it  might  have  taken  us  to 
count  twelve,  we  looked  at  each  other;  and  as  we 
looked,  a  little  clock  on  the  mantel  softly  chimed 
the  quarter  hour.  In  fifteen  minutes  I  should  be 
due  upon  the  stage. 

The  girl  was  very  lovely.  Yes,  lovely  was  the 
right  word  for  her — lovely  and  lovable.  She  was 
like  a  fresh  rose,  with  the  morning  dew  of  youth 
on  its  petals — a  rose  that  had  budded  and  was  be- 
ginning to  bloom  in  a  fair  garden,  far  out  of 
reach  of  ugly  weeds.  I  envied  her,  for  I  felt 
how  different  her  sweet,  girl's  life  had  been  from 
my  stormy  if  sometimes  brilliant  career. 

"Mr.  Dundas  sent  you  to  me?"  I  asked. 
;<  When  did  you  see  him?  Surely  not — since— 

*  This  afternoon,"  she  answered  quietly,  in  a 
pretty,  un-English  sounding  voice,  with  a  soft 
little  drawl  of  the  South  in  it.  "  I  went  to  see 

288 


MAXINE    MEETS   DIANA       289 

him.  They  gave  us  five  minutes.  A  warder  was 
there;  but  speaking  quickly  in  Spanish,  just  a 
few  words,  he — Mr.  Dundas — managed  to  tell 
me  a  thing  he  wished  me  to  do.  He  said  it 
meant  more  than  his  life,  so  I  did  it ;  for  we  have 
been  friends,  and  just  now  he's  helpless.  The 
warder  was  angry,  and  stopped  our  conversa- 
tion at  once,  though  the  five  minutes  weren't 
ended.  But  I  understood.  Mr.  Dundas  said 
there  wasn't  a  moment  to  lose." 

'  Yet  that  was  in  the  afternoon,  and  you  only 
come  to  me  at  this  hour!  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  I  had  something  else  to  do  first,"  she  said,  in 
the  same  quiet  voice.  She  was  looking  down  now, 
not  at  me,  and  her  eyelashes  were  so  long  that 
they  made  a  shadow  on  her  cheeks.  But  the 
blood  streamed  over  her  face. 

"  Even  before  I  saw — Mr.  Dundas,"  she  went 
on,  "  I  had  the  idea  of  calling  on  you — about  a 
different  matter.  I  think  it  would  be  more 
honest  of  me,  if  before  I  go  on  I  tell  you  that — 
quite  by  accident,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned — I 
was  with  someone  who  saw  Mr.  Dundas  go  to 
your  house  last  night,  a  little  after  twelve.  I 
didn't  dream  of  spying  on — either  of  you.  It 
just  happened,  it  wouldn't  interest  you  to  know 
how.  Yet — I  beg  of  you  to  tell  me  one  thing. 
Was  he  with  you  for  long — so  long  that  he 
couldn't  have  got  to  the  other  place  in  time  to 
commit  the  murder? " 

"  He  was  in  my  house  until  after  one,"  I  said 


boldly.  "  But  you,  if  you  are  his  friend,  ought 
to  know  him  well  enough  to  be  certain  without 
such  an  assurance  from  me,  that  he  is  no  mur- 
derer." 

"  Oh,  I  am  certain,"  she  protested.  ;<  I  asked 
the  question,  not  for  that  reason,  but  to  know  if 
you  could  really  prove  his  innocence,  if  you 
choose.  Now,  I  find  you  can.  When  I  read  the 
papers  this  afternoon,  at  first  I  wanted  to  rush 
off  to  the  police  and  tell  them  where  he  had  been 
while  the  murder  was  being  committed.  But  I 
didn't  know  how  long  he  had  stopped  in  your 
house,  and,  besides— 

'  You  would  have  dared  to  do  that! "  I  broke 
in,  the  blood,  angry  blood,  stinging  my  cheeks 
more  hotly  than  it  stung  hers. 

"  It  wasn't  a  question  of  daring,"  she  an- 
swered. "  I  thought  of  him  more  than  of  you; 
but  I  thought  of  you,  too.  I  knew  that  if  I 
were  in  your  place,  no  matter  how  much  harm 
I  might  do  to  myself ,  I  would  confess  that  he  had 
been  in  my  house." 

:'  There  are  reasons  wrhy  I  can't  tell  that  he 
was  there,"  I  said,  trying  to  awe  her  by  speaking 
coldly  and  proudly.  "  His  visit  was  entirely  on 
business.  But  Mr.  Dundas  understands  why  I 
must  keep  silence,  and  he  approves.  You  know 
he  has  remained  silent  himself." 

"  For  your  sake,  because  he  is  a  gentleman — 
brave  and  chivalrous.  Would  you  take  advan- 
tage of  that?" 


MAXINE    MEETS   DIANA       291 

"  You  take  advantage  of  me,"  I  flung  back  at 
the  girl,  looking  her  up  and  down.  '  You  pre- 
tend that  you  came  from  Mr.  Dundas  with  a 
pressing  message  for  me.  Do  you  want  me  to 
believe  this  his  message?  I  think  too  well  of 
him." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  believe  that,"  she  an- 
swered. "  I  haven't  come  to  the  message  yet.  I 
have  earned  a  right  to  speak  to  you  first,  on  my 
own  account." 

"  In  twelve  minutes  I  must  be  on  the  stage," 
I  said. 

"The  stage!"  she  echoed.  'You  can  go  on 
acting  just  the  same,  though  he  is  in  prison — 
for  you ! " 

:<  I  must  go  on  acting.  If  I  didn't,  I  should 
do  him  more  harm  than  good." 

"  I  won't  keep  you  beyond  your  time.  But  I 
beg  that  you  will  do  him  good.  If  you  care  for 
him  at  all,  you  must  want  to  save  him." 

"  If  I  care  for  him? "  I  repeated,  in  surprise. 
'You  think — oh,  but  I  understand  now.  You 
are  the  girl  he  spoke  of." 

She  bliished  deeply,  and  then  grew  pale. 

"  I  did  not  think  he  would  speak  of  me,"  she 
said.  "  I  wish  he  hadn't.  But,  if  you  know 
everything,  the  little  there  is  to  know,  you  must 
see  that  you  have  nothing  to  fear  from  any 
rivalry  of  mine,  Mademoiselle  de  Renzie." 

"Why,"  I  exclaimed,  "you  speak  as  if  you 
thought  Ivor  Dundas  my  lover." 


292     THE   POWERS    AND   MAXINE 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  to  each  other," 
she  faltered,  all  her  coolness  deserting  her. 
"  That  isn't  my  affair " 

"  But  I  say  it  is.  You  shall  not  make  such  a 
mistake.  Mr.  Dundas  cares  nothing  for  me, 
except  as  a  friend.  He  never  did,  though  we 
flirted  a  little  a  year  ago,  to  amuse  ourselves. 
Now,  I  am  engaged  to  marry  a  man  whom  I 
worship.  I  would  gladly  die  for  him.  Ivor 
Dundas  knows  that,  and  is  glad.  But  the  other 
man  is  jealous.  He  wouldn't  understand — he 
would  want  to  kill  me  and  himself  and  Ivor 
Dundas,  if  he  knew  that  Ivor  was  in  my  house 
last  night.  He  was  there  too,  and  I  lied  to  him 
about  Ivor.  How  could  I  expect  him  to  believe 
the  real  truth  now?  He  is  a  man.  But  you  will 
believe,  because  you  are  a  woman,  like  myself, 
and  I  think  the  woman  Ivor  Dundas  loves." 

Her  beautiful  eyes  brightened.  "  He  told 
you— that?" 

"  He  told  me  he  loved  a  girl,  and  was  afraid 
that  he  would  lose  her  because  of  the  business 
which  brought  him  to  me.  You  seem  to  have 
been  as  unreasonable  with  him,  as  Ra — as  the 
man  I  love  could  be  with  me.  Poor  Ivor!  Last 
night  was  not  the  first  time  that  he  sacrificed 
himself  for  chivalry  and  honour.  Yet  you 
blame  me!  Look  to  yourself,  Miss  Forrest." 

"  I — I  don't  blame  you,"  she  stammered,  a 
sob  in  her  voice.  "  Only  I  beg  you  to  save  him, 
from  gratitude,  if  not  from  love." 


MAXINE    MEETS    DIANA       293 

"  It's  true  I  owe  him  a  debt  of  gratitude, 
deeper  than  you  know,"  I  answered.  "  He  is 
worth  trusting — worth  saving,  at  the  expense  of 
almost  any  sacrifice.  But  I  can't  sacrifice  the 
man  I  love  for  him." 

She  looked  thoughtful.  '  You  say  the  man 
you  were  engaged  to  was  at  your  house  while 
Ivor  was  there? " 

"  Yes.  He  came  then.  I  hid  Ivor,  and  I 
lied." 

"  He  suspected  that  someone  was  with  you? 
He  stood  watching,  outside  your  gate?" 

"  He  confessed  that,  when  I'd  made  him 
repent  his  jealousy.  Why  do  you  ask?  You 
saw  him? " 

"  I  think  so.  Tell  me,  Mademoiselle  de  Ren- 
zie,  did  he  lose  anything  of  value  near  your 
house? " 

"  Great  heavens,  yes !  "  I  cried.  "  What  do 
you  know  of  that?  " 

"  I  know — something.  Enough,  maybe,  to 
help  you  to  find  the  thing  for  him — if  you  will 
promise  to  help  Ivor." 

"  Oh,  shame,"  I  cried  violently,  sick  of  bar- 
gains and  promises.  "  You  are  trying  to  bribe 
me!" 

'  Yes,  but  I  am  not  ashamed,"  the  girl 
answered,  holding  her  head  high.  "  I  have  not 
the  thing  which  was  lost;  but  I  can  get  it  for 
you — this  very  night  or  to-morrow  morning,  if 
you  will  do  what  I  ask." 


294     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"  I  tell  you  I  cannot,"  I  said.  "  Not  even  to 
get  back  that  thing  whose  loss  was  the  beginning 
of  all  my  misery.  Ivor  would  not  wish  me  to 
ruin  myself  and — another.  Mr.  Dundas  must 
be  saved  without  me.  Please  go.  If  we  talked 
of  this  together  all  night,  it  could  make  no  dif- 
ference. And  I'm  in  great  trouble,  great 
trouble  of  my  own." 

"Has  your  trouble  anything  to  do  with  a 
document? "  Miss  Forrest  slowly  asked. 

I  started,  and  stared  at  her,  breathless. 

"  It  has !  "  she  answered  for  me.  '  Your  face 
tells  me  so." 

"  Has  Ivor's  message — to  do  with  that? "  I 
almost  gasped. 

"  Perhaps.  But  he  had  no  good  news  of  it  to 
give  you.  If  you  want  news — if  you  want  the 
document,  it  must  be  through  me." 

"  Anything,  anything  on  earth  you  like  to  ask 
for  the  document,  if  you  can  get  it  for  me, 
I  will  do,"  I  pleaded,  all  my  pride  and  anger 
gone. 

"  I  ask  you  to  tell  the  police  that  Ivor  Dundas 
was  in  your  house  from  a  little  after  midnight 
until  after  one.  Will  you  do  that?  " 

"  I  must,"  I  said,  "  if  you  have  the  document 
to  sell,  and  are  determined  to  sell  it  at  no  other 
price.  But  if  I  do  what  you  ask,  it  will  spoil  my 
life,  for  it  will  kill  my  lover's  love,  when  he 
knows  I  have  lied  to  him.  Still,  it  will  save  him 
from '  I  stopped,  and  bit  my  lip.  "  Will 


MAXINE    MEETS    DIANA       295 

you  give  me  the  diamonds,  too? "  I  asked,  hum- 
bly enough  now. 

'  The  diamonds  ?  "     She  looked  bewildered. 

'  The  diamonds  in  the  brocade  bag.  Oh, 
surely  they  are  still  in  the  bag? " 

'  Yes,  they  are — they  will  be  in  the  bag,"  the 
girl  answered,  her  charming  mouth  suddenly 
resolute,  though  her  eyes  were  troubled.  '  You 
shall  have  the  diamonds,  and  the  document,  too, 
for  that  one  promise." 

"  How  is  it  possible  that  you  can  give  me  the 
document?  "  I  asked,  half  suspicious,  for  that  it 
should  come  to  me  after  all  I  had  endured 
because  of  it  seemed  too  good  to  be  true;  that 
it  should  come  through  this  girl  seemed  incred- 
ible. 

"  Ivor  sent  me  to  find  it,  and  I  found  it,"  she 
said  simply.  ;'  That  was  why  I  couldn't  come 
to  you  before.  I  had  to  get  the  document.  I 
didn't  quite  know  how  I  was  to  do  it  at  first, 
because  I  had  no  one  to  help  or  advise  me;  and 
Ivor  said  it  was  under  some  flower-pots  in  a  box 
on  the  balcony  of  the  room  where  the  man  was 
murdered.  I  was  sure  I  wouldn't  be  allowed  to 
get  into  the  room  itself,  so  it  seemed  difficult. 
But  I  thought  it  all  out,  and  hired  a  room  for 
the  evening  in  a  house  next  door,  pretending  I 
was  a  New  York  journalist.  I  had  to  wait  until 
after  dark,  and  then  I  climbed  across  from  one 
balcony  to  the  other.  It  wasn't  as  easy  to  do  as 
it  looked  from  the  photograph  I  saw,  because  it 


296    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

was  so  high  up,  and  the  balconies  were  quite  far 
apart,  after  all.  But  I  couldn't  fail  Ivor;  and 
I  got  across.  The  rest  was  nothing — except  the 
climbing  back.  I  don't  know  how  the  document 
came  in  the  box,  though  I  suppose  Ivor  put  it 
there  to  hide  it  from  the  police.  It  was  wrapped 
up  in  a  towel;  and  it's  quite  clean." 

"  I  think,"  I  said  slowly,  when  she  had  fin- 
ished her  story,  "  that  you  have  a  right  to  set  a 
high  price  on  that  document.  You  are  a  brave 
girl." 

"  It's  not  much  to  be  brave  for  a  man  you 
love,  is  it?  And  now  I'm  going  to  give  the 
thing  to  you,  because  I  trust  you,  Mademoiselle 
de  Renzie.  I  know  you'll  pay.  And  I  hope, 
oh,  I  feel,  it  won't  hurt  you  as  you  think  it  will." 

Then,  as  if  it  had  been  some  ordinary  paper, 
she  whipped  from  a  long  pocket  of  a  coat  she 
wore,  the  treaty.  She  put  it  into  my  hand.  I 
felt  it,  I  clasped  it.  I  could  have  kissed  it. 
The  very  touch  of  it  made  me  tremble. 

"Do  you  know  what  this  is,  Miss  Forrest?" 
I  asked. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  It  was  yours,  or  Ivor's. 
Of  course  I  didn't  look." 

And  then  there  came  the  rap,  rap,  of  the  call- 
boy  at  the  door.  The  fifteen  minutes  were  over. 
But  I  had  the  treaty.  And  I  had  to  pay  its 
price. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

MAXINE  PLAYS  THE  LAST  HAND  OF  THE  GAME 

WHEN  the  play  was  over,  I  let  Raoul  drive 
home  with  me  to  supper.  If  Godensky  knew,  as 
he  may  have  known — since  he  seemed  to  know  all 
my  movements — perhaps  he  thought  that  I  was 
seeing  Raoul  for  the  last  time,  and  sending  him 
away  from  me  for  ever.  But,  though  the  game 
was  not  in  my  hands  yet,  the  treaty  was;  and  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  defy  Godensky. 

I  had  almost  promised  that,  if  he  held  his 
hand,  I  would  give  Raoul  up ;  and  never  have  I 
broken  my  word.  But  if  I  wrote  a  letter  to 
Godensky  in  the  morning,  saying  I  had  changed 
my  mind,  that  he  could  do  his  worst  against 
Raoul  du  Laurier  and  against  me,  for  nothing 
should  part  us  two  except  death?  Then  he 
would  have  fair  warning  that  I  did  not  intend  to 
do  the  thing  to  which  he  had  nearly  forced  me; 
and  I  would  fight  him,  when  he  tried  to  take 
revenge.  But  meanwhile,  before  he  got  that 
letter,  I  would — I  must — find  some  way  of  put- 
ting the  treaty  back  in  its  place  at  the  Foreign 
Office. 

It  was  too  soon  to  dare  to  be  happy,  yet;  for 

297 


298     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

it  was  on  the  cards  that,  even  when  I  had  saved 
Raoul  from  the  consequences  of  my  political 
treachery,  Godensky  might  still  be  able  to  ruin 
me  with  him.  Yet,  the  relief  I  felt  after  the 
all  but  hopeless  anguish  in  which  I  had  been 
drowning  for  the  last  few  days  gave  to  my 
spirit  a  wild  exhilaration  that  night.  I  encour- 
aged Raoul  with  hints  that  I  had  news  of  the 
necklace,  and  said  that,  if  he  would  let  me  come 
to  him  in  his  office  as  soon  as  it  was  open  in  the 
morning,  I  might  be  able  to  surprise  him  pleas- 
antly. Of  course,  he  answered  that  it  would 
give  him  the  greatest  joy  to  see  me  there,  or- 
anywhere;  and  we  parted  with  an  appointment 
for  nine  o'clock  next  day. 

When  he  had  gone,  I  wrote  a  note — a  very 
short  note — to  Count  Godensky.  I  wanted  to 
have  it  ready;  but  I  did  not  mean  to  send  it  till 
the  treaty  was  in  the  safe  whence  I  had  taken  it. 
Then,  the  letter  should  go  at  once,  by  messenger; 
and  it  would  still  be  very  early  in  the  day,  I 
hoped. 

Usually,  I  have  my  cup  of  chocolate  in  bed  at 
nine;  but  on  the  morning  which  followed  I  was 
dressed  and  ready  to  go  out  at  half  past  eight. 
I  think  that  I  had  not  slept  at  all,  but  that  didn't 
matter.  I  felt  strong  and  fresh,  and  my  heart 
was  full  of  courage.  I  was  leaving  nothing  to 
chance.  I  had  a  plan,  and  knew  how  I  meant 
to  play  the  last  hand  in  the  game.  It  might  go 
against  me.  But  I  held  a  high  trump. 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    299 

Again,  as  before,  Raoul  received  me  alone. 

"  Dearest,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  know  your  news 
must  be  good,  for  you  look  so  bright  and  beauti- 
ful. Tell  me— tell  me!" 

I  laughed,  teasingly,  though  Heaven  knew  I 
was  in  no  mood  for  teasing. 

'  You're  too  impatient,"  I  said.  '  To  pun- 
ish you  for  asking  about  the  wretched  diamonds 
before  you  enquired  how  I  slept,  and  whether  I 
dreamed  of  you,  I  shall  make  you  pay  a  pen- 
alty." 

"  Any  penalty  you  will,"  he  answered,  laugh- 
ing too,  and  entering  into  the  joke — for  he  wras 
happy  and  hopeful  now,  seeing  that  I  could 
joke. 

"  Let  me  sit  down  and  write  at  your  desk,, 
on  a  bit  of  your  paper,"  I  said. 

He  gave  me  pen  and  ink.  I  scribbled  off  a 
few  words,  and  folded  the  note  into  an  envelope. 

"  Now,  this  is  very  precious,"  I  went  on.  "  It 
tells  you  all  you  want  to  know.  But — I'm  go- 
ing to  post  it." 

"No,  no!"  he  protested.  "I  can't  wait  for 
the  post." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  trust  my  treasure  to  the  post 
office,  not  even  if  it  were  insured.  Open  that 
wonderful  safe  you  gave  me  a  peep  into  the 
other  day,  and  I'll  put  this  valuable  document  in 
among  the  others,  not  more  valuable  to  the  coun- 
try than  this  ought  to  be  to  you.  I'll  hide  it 
there,  and  you  must  shut  up  the  safe  without 


300    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

looking  for  it,  till  I've  gone.  Then,  you  must 
count  ten,  and  after  that — you  may  search. 
Remember,  you  said  you'd  submit  to  any  pen- 
alty, so  no  excuses,  no  complaints." 

Raoul  laughed.  '  You  shall  have  your  way, 
fantastic  though  it  be,  for  you  are  a  sorceress, 
and  have  bewitched  me." 

He  unlocked  the  door  of  the  safe  and  stood 
waiting  for  me  to  gratify  my  whim.  But  I 
gaily  motioned  him  behind  me.  "  If  you  stand 
there  you  can  see  where  I  put  it,  and  that  won't 
be  fair  play.  Turn  your  back." 

He  obeyed.  *  You  see  how  I  trust  you! "  he 
said.  :'  There  lie  my  country's  secrets." 

'  They're  safe  from  me,"  I  said  pertly.  (And 
so  indeed  they  were — now.)  "They're  too 
uninteresting  to  amuse  me  in  the  least." 

As  I  spoke  I  found  and  abstracted  the 
dummy  treaty  and  slipped  the  real  one  into  its 
place.  Then  I  laid  the  envelope  with  the  note 
I  had  written  where  he  could  not  help  finding 
it  at  first  or  second  glance. 

"  Now  you  can  close  the  safe,"  I  said. 

He  shut  the  door,  and  I  almost  breathed  aloud 
the  words  that  burst  from  my  heart,  "  Thank 
Heaven!" 

"  I  must  leave  you,"  I  told  him.  And  I  was 
kind  for  a  moment,  capricious  no  longer,  because, 
though  the  treaty  had  been  restored,  I  was  going 
to  open  the  cage  of  Godensky's  vengeance,  and 
— I  was  afraid  of  him. 


MAXIXE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    301 

"  I  may  come  to  you  as  soon  as  I'm  free? " 
Raoul  asked. 

"  Yes.  Come  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of 
the  news,  and — what  you  think  of  me,"  I  said. 
And  while  I  spoke,  smiling,  I  prayed  within 
that  he  might  continue  to  think  of  me  all  things 
good — far  better  than  I  deserved,  yet  not  bet- 
ter than  I  would  try  to  deserve  in  the  future,  if 
I  were  permitted  to  spend  that  future  with  him. 

The  next  thing  I  did  was  to  send  my  letter  to 
Count  Godensky.  This  was  a  flinging  down  of 
the  glove,  and  I  knew  it  well.  But  I  was  ready 
to  fight  now. 

Then,  I  had  to  keep  my  promise  to  Miss  For- 
rest. But  I  had  thought  of  a  way  in  which,  I 
hoped,  that  promise — fulfilled  as  I  meant  to  ful- 
fil it — might  help  rather  than  injure  me.  I  had 
not  lain  awake  all  night  for  nothing. 

I  went  to  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police, 
who  is  a  gentleman  and  a  patron  of  the  theatre 
— when  he  can  spare  time  from  his  work.  I  had 
met  him,  and  had  reason  to  know  that  he  admired 
my  acting. 

His  first  words  were  of  congratulation  upon 
my  success  in  the  new  play;  and  he  was  as  cor- 
dial, as  complimentary,  as  if  he  had  never  heard 
of  that  scene  at  the  Elysee  Palace  Hotel,  about 
which  of  course  he  knew  everything — so  far  as 
his  subordinate  could  report. 

"  Are  you  surprised  to  see  me,  Monsieur? "  I 
asked. 


302     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXINE 

"A  great  delight  is  always  more  or  less  of 
a  surprise  in  this  work-a-day  world,"  he  gal- 
lantty  replied. 

"  But  you  can  guess  what  has  brought  me? " 

;*  Would  that  I  could  think  it  was  only  to 
give  me  a  box  at  the  theatre  this  evening." 

"  It  is  partly  that,"  I  laughed.  "  Partly  for 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  of  course.  And 
partly — you  know  already,  since  you  know 
everything,  that  I  am  a  friend  of  Mr.  Dundas, 
the  young  Englishman  accused  of  a  murder 
which  he  could  not  possibly  have  committed.'* 

"  Could  not  possibly  have  committed?  Is 
that  merely  your  opinion  as  a  loyal  friend, 
or  have  you  come  to  make  a  communication 
tome?" 

"  For  that — and  to  offer  you  the  stage-box  for 
to-night." 

"  A  thousand  thanks  for  the  box.  As  for  the 
communication ' ' 

"  It's  this.  Mr.  Dundas  was  in  my  house  at 
the  time  when,  according  to  the  doctors'  state- 
ments, the  murder  must  have  been  committed. 
Oh,  it's  a  hard  thing  for  me  to  come  and  tell 
you  this!"  I  went  on  hastily.  "Not  that  I'm 
ashamed  to  have  received  a  call  from  him  at  that 
hour,  as  it  was  necessary  to  see  him  then,  or  not 
at  all.  He  meant  to  leave  Paris  early  in  the 
morning.  But — because  I'm  engaged  to  be 
married  to — perhaps  you  know  that,  though, 
among  other  things?" 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    303 

"  I've  heard — a  rumour.  I  didn't  know  that 
it  amounted  to  an  engagement.  Monsieur  du 
Laurier  is  to  be  a  thousand  times  congratulated." 

"  I  love  him  dearly,"  I  said  simply.  And, 
not  because  I  am  an  actress,  but  because  I  am  a 
a  woman  and  had  suffered  all  that  I  could  bear, 
tears  rose  to  my  eyes.  "  I  am  true  to  him,  and 
always  have  been.  But — he  is  horribly  jealous. 
I  can't  explain  Mr.  Dundas'  night  visit  in  a  way 
to  satisfy  him.  If  Raoul  finds  out  that  an  Eng- 
lishman— well-known,  but  of  whom  I  never 
spoke — was  at  my  house  after  midnight,  he  will 
believe  I  have  deceived  him.  Oh,  Monsieur,  if 
you  would  help  me  to  keep  this  secret  I  am  tell- 
ing you  so  frankly!" 

'  Keep  the  secret,  yet  use  it  to  free  the  Eng- 
lishman? "  asked  the  Chief  of  Police  gravely. 

'  Yes,  I  ask  no  less  of  you ;  I  beg,  I  implore 
you.  It  would  kill  me_to  break  with  Raoul  du 
Laurier." 

"  Dear  Mademoiselle,"  said  the  good  and  gal- 
lant man,  "trust  me  to  do  the  best  I  can  for 
you."  (I  could  see  that  my  tears  had  moved 
him. )  "A  grief  to  you  would  be  a  blow  to 
Paris.  Yet — well,  as  you  have  been  frank,  I 
owe  it  to  you  to  be  equally  so  on  my  side.  I 
should  before  this  have  sent — quite  privately  and 
in  a  friendly  way,  to  question  you  about  this  Mr. 
Dundas,  who  passed  under  another  name  at  the 
hotel  where  you  called  upon  him ;  but  I  received 
a  request  from  a  very  high  quarter  to  wait  before 


communicating  with  you.  Now,  as  you  have 
come  to  me,  I  suppose  I  may  speak." 

"Ask  me  any  questions  you  choose,"  I  said, 
"  and  I'll  answer  them." 

"  Then,  to  begin  with,  since  you  are  engaged 
to  Monsieur  du  Laurier,  how  do  you  explain  the 
statement  you  made  at  the  hotel,  concerning  Mr. 
Dundas?" 

"  That  is  one  of  the  many  things  I  have  come 
here  on  purpose  to  tell  you,"  I  answered  him; 
"  for  I  am  going  to  give  you  my  whole  confi- 
dence. I  throw  myself  upon  your  mercy:" 

'  You  do  me  a  great  honour.  Will  you 
speak  without  my  prompting? " 

"  Yes.  I  would  prefer  it.  In  England,  a 
year  ago,  I  had  a  little  flirtation  with  Mr.  Dun- 
das — no  more,  though  we  liked  and  admired  each 
other.  We  exchanged  a  few  silly  letters,  and  I 
forgot  all  about  them  until  I  fell  in  love  with 
Raoul  and  promised  to  marry  him — only  a  short 
time  ago.  Then  I  couldn't  bear  to  think  that  I 
had  written  these  foolish  letters,  and  that,  per- 
haps, Mr.  Dundas  might  have  kept  them.  I 
wrote  and  asked  if  he  had.  He  answered  that 
he  had  every  one,  and  valued  them  immensely, 
but  if  I  wished,  he  would  either  burn  all,  or 
bring  them  to  me,  whichever  I  chose.  I  chose 
to  have  him  bring  them,  and  I  told  him  that 
I'd  meet  him  at  the  ^llysee  Palace  Hotel  on  a 
certain  evening,  to  receive  the  letters  from  him." 

"  He  came,  as  I  said,  under  another  name. 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    305 

Why  was  that,  Mademoiselle,  since  there  was 
aothing  for  him  to  be  ashamed  of  ? " 

"  He  also  is  in  love,  and  just  engaged  to  be 
married  to  an  American  girl  who  lives  with  rela- 
tions in  London,  in  a  very  high  position.  He 
didn't  want  the  girl  to  know  he  was  coming  to 
Paris,  because,  it  seems,  there  had  been  a  little 
talk  about  him  and  me,  which  she  had  heard. 
And  she  didn't  like  it." 

"  I  see.  This  gentleman  started  for  Paris,  I 
have  learned,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  the 
day  after  a  ball  at  a  house  where  he  met  the 
British  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs." 

"  Perhaps.  For  I  have  enquired  and  found 
eut  that  the  girl — a  Miss  Forrest,  is  distantly 
connected  with  the  British  Foreign  Secretary. 
She  lives  with  her  aunt,  Lady  Mountstuart, 
whose  sister  is  married  to  that  gentleman.  And 
the  Foreign  Secretary  is  a  cousin  of  Lord 
Mountstuart." 

"Ah,  Miss  Forrest!" 

'You  know  of  her  already?" 

"  I  have  heard  her  name." 

(I  guessed  how:  for  she  could  not  have  seen 
Ivor  Dundas  in  prison  except  through  the  Chief 
of  Police;  but  I  said  nothing  of  that.) 

"  You  say  you  know  how  we  met  at  the  hotel, 
Mr.  Dundas  and  I,"  I  went  on.  "  But  I'll 
explain  to  you  now  the  inner  meaning  of  it  all, 
which  even  you  can't  have  found  out.  Mr.  Dun- 
das was  to  have  brought  me  my  letters — half  a 


306    THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

dozen.  He  gave  me  a  leather  case,  which  he 
took  from  an  inner  breast  pocket,  saying  the 
letters  were  in  it.  But  the  room  was  dark. 
Something  had  gone  wrong  with  the  electricity, 
and  I  hadn't  let  him  push  back  the  curtains,  for 
fear  I  might  be  seen  from  outside,  if  the  lights 
should  suddenly  come  on.  He  didn't  see  the 
case,  as  he  handed  it  to  me,  nor  could  I.  Just 
at  that  instant  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door ;  and 
quick  as  thought  I  pushed  the  leather  case  down 
between  the  seat  and  back  of  the  sofa." 

"But  what  reason  had  you  to  suppose  that 
any  danger  of  discovery  threatened  you  because 
of  a  knock  at  the  door? " 

"  I'll  tell  you.  There  is  a  man — I  won't  men- 
tion his  name,  but  you  know  it  very  well,  and 
maybe  it  is  in  your  mind  now — who  wants  me  to 
marry  him.  He  has  wanted  it  for  some  time — 
I  think  because  he  admires  women  who  are 
before  the  public  and  applauded  by  the  world; 
also,  perhaps,  because  I  have  refused  him,  and 
he  is  one  who  wants  most  what  he  finds  hardest 
to  get.  He  is  not  a  scrupulous  person,  but  he 
has  some  power  and  a  good  deal  of  influence, 
because  he  is  very  highly  connected,  and  when 
people  have  '  axes  to  grind '  he  helps  to  grind 
them.  He  has  suspected  for  some  time  that  I 
cared  for  M.  du  Laurier,  and  for  that  he  has 
hated  Raoul.  I  have  fancied  that  he  hired 
detectives  to  spy  upon  me;  and  my  instinct  as 
well  as  common  sense  told  me  that  he  would  let 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    307 

no  chance  slip  to  separate  me  from  the  man  I 
love.  He  would  work  mischief  between  us  — 
or  he  would  try  to  ruin  Raoul,  or  crush  me  — 
anything  to  keep  us  apart.  When  I  saw  the 
Commissary  of  Police  I  was  hardly  surprised, 
and  though  I  didn't  know  what  pretext  had 
brought  him,  I  said  to  myself  '  That  is  the  work 


"  Perhaps  better  not  mention  the  name,  Made- 
moiselle." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to.  I  leave  that  to  your  —  • 
imagination.  '  This  is  the  work  of  the  man 
whose  love  is  more  cruel  than  hate/  I  thought. 
While  I  wondered  what  possible  use  the  police 
could  make  of  my  letters,  I  was  shaking  with 
terror  lest  they  should  come  upon  them  and 
they  should  somehow  fall  into  —  a  certain  man's 
hands.  Then,  at  last,  they  did  find  the  case,  just 
as  I'd  begun  to  hope  it  was  safe.  I  begged 
the  Commissary  of  Police  not  to  open  it.  In 
vain.  When  he  did,  what  was  my  relief  to  see 
the  diamond  necklace  you  must  have  heard  of!  — 
my  relief  and  my  surprise.  And  now  I'm  going 
to  confide  in  you  the  secret  of  another,  speaking 
to  you  as  my  friend,  and  a  man  of  honour. 

'  Those  jewels  had  been  stolen  only  a  few 
days  ago  from  Monsieur  du  Laurier,  and  he  was 
in  despair  at  their  loss,  for  they  belonged  to  a 
dear  friend  of  his  —  an  inveterate  gambler,  but 
an  adorable  woman.  She  dared  not  tell  her 
husband  of  money  that  she'd  lost,  but  begged 


308     THE   POWERS   AND  MAXIXE 

Raoul  to  sell  the  diamonds  for  her  in  Amster- 
dam and  have  them  replaced  by  paste.  On  his 
way  there  the  necklace  was  stolen  by  an  expert 
thief,  who  must  somehow  have  learned  what  was 
going  on  through  the  pawnbroker  with  whom 
the  jewels  had  been  in  pledge — for  a  few  thou- 
sand francs  only.  You  can  imagine  my  aston- 
ishment at  seeing  the  necklace  returned  in  such 
a  miraculous  way.  I  thought  that  Ivor  Dundas 
must  have  got  it  back,  meaning  to  give  it  to  me 
as  a  surprise — and  the  letters  afterwards.  And 
it  was  only  to  keep  the  letters  out  of  the  affair 
altogether  at  any  price — evidences  in  black  and 
white  of  my  silly  flirtation — and  also  to  avoid 
any  association  of  Raoul's  name  with  the  neck- 
lace, that  I  told  the  Commissary  of  Police  the 
leather  case  had  in  it  a  present  from  my  lover.  I 
spoke  impulsively,  in  sheer  desperation;  and  the 
instant  the  words  were  out  I  would  have  cut 
off  my  hand  to  take  back  the  stupid  falsehood. 
But  what  good  to  deny  what  I  had  just  said? 
The  men  wouldn't  have  believed  me. 

'  When  the  police  had  gone,  I  asked  Mr. 
Dundas  for  my  letters.  But  he  thought  he  had 
given  them  to  me — and  he  knew  no  more  of  the 
diamonds  in  their  red  case  than  I  did — far  less, 
indeed. 

"  I  was  distracted  to  find  that  my  letters  had 
disappeared,  though  I  was  thankful  for  Raoul's 
sake,  to  have  the  necklace.  Mr.  Dundas  believed 
that  his  own  leather  case  with  the  letters  must 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    309 

have  been  stolen  from  his  pocket  in  the  train, 
though  he  couldn't  imagine  why  the  diamonds 
had  been  given  to  him  instead.  But  he  suspected 
a  travelling  companion  of  his,  who  had  acted 
queerly;  and  he  determined  to  try  and  find  the 
man.  He  was  to  bring  me  news  after  the  theatre 
at  my  house,  about  midnight. 

"  He  came  fifteen  minutes  later,  having  been 
detained  at  his  hotel.  Friends  of  his  had  unex- 
pectedly arrived.  He  had  just  time  to  tell  me 
this,  and  that  after  going  out  on  a  false  scent 
he  had  employed  a  detective  named  Girard,  when 
Monsieur  du  Laurier  arrived  unexpectedly.  It 
seems,  he'd  been  made  frantically  jealous  by 
some  misrepresentations  of — the  man  whose 
name  we  haven't  mentioned.  I  begged  Mr. 
Dundas  to  hide  in  my  boudoir,  which  he  dis- 
liked doing,  but  finally  did,  to  please  me.  I 
hoped  that  he  would  escape  by  the  window,  but 
it  stuck,  and  to  my  horror  I  heard  him  there, 
in  the  dark,  moving  about.  I  covered  the  sounds 
as  well  as  I  could,  and  pacified  Raoul,  who 
thought  he  had  seen  someone  come  in.  I  hinted 
that  it  must  have  been  the  fiance  of  a  pretty 
housemaid  I  have.  It  was  not  till  after  one 
that  Ivor  Dundas  finally  got  away;  this  I  swear 
to  you.  What  happened  to  him  after  leav- 
ing my  house  you  know  better  than  I  do, 
for  I  haven't  seen  him  since,  as  you  are  well 
aware." 

"  He  says  he  found  a  letter  from  the  thief  in 


310     THE    POWERS   AND   MAXIXE 

his  pocket,  and  went  to  the  address  named;  that 
he  couldn't  get  a  cab  and  walked.  But  you  have 
read  the  papers." 

"  Yes,  and  I  know  how  loyal  he  has  been  to 
me.  Why,  he  wouldn't  even  tell  about  the  dia- 
monds, much  less  my  letters!  " 

"  As  for  these  letters,  you  are  still  anxious 
about  them,  Mademoiselle? " 

"  My  hope  is  that  Mr.  Dundas  found  and 
had  time  to  destroy  them,  rather  than  risk 
further  delay." 

"  You  would  like  to  know  their  fate?  " 

"  I  would  indeed." 

;<  Well,  I  applaud  the  Englishman's  chivalry. 
Vive  I1  Entente  Cordiale! " 

'  You  are  a  man  to  understand  such  chiv- 
alry, Monsieur.  Now  that  I've  humbled  my- 
self, can't  you  give  me  hope  that  he'll  soon  be 
released,  and  yet  that — that  I  shan't  be  made 
to  suffer  for  my  confession  to  you?  It's  clear 
to  you,  isn't  it,  that  the  murder  must  have  been 
done  long  before  he  could  have  reached  the  house 
in  the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage  from  the  Rue 
d'Hollande?" 

'  Yes,  that  is  clear.  And  needless  to  say,  I 
beh'eve  your  statement,  Mademoiselle.  You  are 
brave  and  good  to  have  come  forward  as  you 
have,  without  being  called  upon.  There  are  still 
some  formalities  to  be  gone  through  before  Mr. 
Dundas  can  be  released ;  but  English  influence  is 
at  work  in  high  quarters,  and  after  what  you 


have  told  me,  I  think  he  will  not  much  longer 
he  under  restraint.  Besides,  I  may  as  well 
inform  you,  dear  lady,  that  not  ten  minutes 
hefore  you  arrived  this  morning  I  received  satis- 
factory news  of  the  arrest  of  two  Englishmen 
at  Frankfort,  who  seem  to  have  been  concerned 
in  this  business  in  the  Rue  de  la  Fille  Sauvage. 
They  certainly  travelled  with  the  murdered  man ; 
and  a  friend  of  his  called  Gestre,  just  back  from 
Marseilles,  has  sworn  that  these  persons  were 
formerly  partners  of  Janson,  the  deceased.  If 
Janson  stole  the  necklace  from  Monsieur  du 
Laurier,  with  this  pair  as  accomplices,  and  then 
tried  to  cheat  them,  a  motive  for  the  crime  is 
evident.  And  we  are  getting  at  Janson's 
record,  which  seems  to  be  a  bad  one — a  notorious 
one  throughout  Europe,  if  he  proves  to  be  the 
man  we  think.  I  hope,  really,  that  in  a  very 
few  days  Mr.  Dundas  may  be  able  to  thank  you 
in  person  for  what  you've  done  for  him,  and — to 
tell  you  what  has  become  of  those  letters." 

'  What  good  will  their  destruction  do  me, 
though,  if  you  are  not  merciful?" 

"  I  intend  to  be,  for  I  can  combine  mercy 
with  justice.  Dear  Mademoiselle,  Monsieur  du 
Laurier  need  never  know  the  circumstances  you 
have  told  to  me,  or  that  the  Englishman's  alibi 
has  been  proved  by  you.  The  arrest  of  these 
two  men  in  Frankfort  will,  I  feel  sure,  help 
the  police  to  keep  your  secret  as  you  would 
keep  it  yourself.  Now,  will  that  assurance  make 


312     THE   POWERS   AND   MAXINE 

it  easier  for  you  to  put  your  whole  soul  into  your 
part  to-night? " 

"  If  you  will  accept  that  box,"  I  said,  letting 
him  kiss  my  hand,  and  feeling  inclined  to  kiss 
his. 

Then  I  drove  home,  with  my  heart  singing, 
for  I  felt  almost  sure  that  I  had  trumped 
Godensky's  last  trick  now. 

When  I  reached  home  Miss  Forrest  was  there. 
She  had  brought  the  diamonds  in  the  brocade 
bag.  Oddly  enough,  the  ribbons  which  fastened 
it  were  torn  out,  as  if  there  had  been  a  struggle 
for  the  possession  of  the  bag.  But  Miss  For- 
rest did  not  explain  this,  or  even  allude  to  it  at 
all. 

I  thanked  her  for  coming  and  for  bringing 
the  jewels.  "  I  have  kept  my  promise,"  I  said. 
'  The  man  you  love  will  be  free  in  a  few  days. 
Will  you  let  me  say  that  I  think  you  are  a  very 
noble  pair,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  happy  to- 
gether." 

"  I  shall  try  to  make  up  to  him  for — my  hate- 
ful suspicions  and — everything,"  she  said,  like  a 
repentant  child.  "I  love  him  so  much!" 

"  And  he  you.  You  almost  broke  his  heart 
by  throwing  him  over;  I  saw  that.  But  how 
gloriously  you  will  mend  it  again  I" 

"Oh,  I  hope  so!"  she  cried.  "And  you — 
have  I  really  spoiled  your  life  by  forcing  you  to 
make  that  promise?  I  pray  that  I  haven't." 

"  I  thought  you  had,  but  I  was  mistaken,"  I 


MAXINE    PLAYS   LAST   HAND    313 

answered.  "  The  thing  you  have  made  me  do 
has  proved  a  blessing.  I  may  have — altered 
some  of  the  facts  a  little,  but  none  of  those  that 
concern  Mr.  Dundas.  And  a  woman  has  to 
use  such  weapons  as  she  has,  against  cruel  ene- 
mies." 

"  I  hope  you'll  defeat  yours,"  said  Miss 
Forrest. 

"  I  begin  to  believe  I  shall,"  said  I.  And  we 
shook  hands.  She  is  the  only  girl  I  ever  saw 
who  seemed  to  me  worthy  of  Ivor  Dundas. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  Raoul  came,  and  the 
first  thing  I  did  was  to  give  him  the  diamonds. 

'  You  are  my  good  angel ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Thank  Heaven,  I  won't  have  to  take  your 
money  now." 

"  All  that's  mine  is  yours,"  I  said. 

"  It  is  you  I  want  for  mine,"  he  answered. 
:<  When  am  I  to  have  you?  Don't  keep  me  wait- 
ing long,  my  darling.  I'm  nothing  without 

you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  keep  you  waiting,"  I  told 
him.  And  indeed  I  longed  to  be  his  wife — 
his,  in  spite  of  Godensky ;  his,  till  death  us  should 
part. 

He  took  me  in  his  arms,  and  then,  when  I  had 
promised  to  marry  him  as  soon  as  a  marriage 
could  be  arranged,  our  talk  drifted  back  to  the 
morning,  and  the  note  I  had  written,  telling  him 
that  a  pretty  American  girl  had  found  the  dia- 
monds. 


314    THE    POWERS   AND    MAXIXE 

"  She's  engaged  to  marry  Ivor  Dundas,  an 
old  friend  of  mine — the  poor  fellow  so  stupidly 
accused  of  murder,"  I  explained.  "  But  of 
course  he  is  innocent.  Of  course  he'll  be  dis- 
charged without  a  blot  upon  his  name.  They're 
tremendously  in  love  with  each  other,  almost  as 
much  as  you  and  I ! " 

"  You  didn't  tell  me  about  the  love  affair  in 
your  note,"  said  Raoul.  "  You  spoke  only  of 
the  girl,  and  the  coincidence  of  her  driving  past 
your  house,  after  I  went  in." 

'  There  wasn't  time  for  more  in  that  famous 
communication !  "  I  laughed. 

Raoul  echoed  me.  "  It  came  rather  too  near 
being  famous,  by  the  way,"  he  said.  "  Just 
after  I  had  found  it  in  the  safe — where  you 
would  put  it,  you  witch ! — a  man  came  in  with  an 
order  from  the  President  to  copy  a  clause  in 
a  new  treaty  which  is  kept  there." 

;<  What  treaty? "  I  asked,  with  a  leap  of  the 
heart. 

"  Oh,  one  between  France,  Japan  and  Russia. 
But  that  isn't  the  point."  (Ah,  was  it  not,  if 
he  had  known?)  '  The  thing  is,  it  would  have 
been  rather  awkward,  wouldn't  it?  if  I  hadn't 
got  your  note  out  of  the  safe  before  the  man 
came  in,  as  he  never  took  his  eyes  off  me,  or  out 
of  the  open  safe,  for  a  second." 

"Thank  God  I  wasn't  too  late!"  I  stam- 
mered, before  I  could  keep  back  the  rushing 
words. 


MAXINE    PLAYS    LAST    HAND    315 

'  You  mean,  thank  God  he  wasn't  sooner, 
don't  you,  darling? "  amended  Raoul. 

'Yes,  of  course.  How  stupid  I  am!"  I 
murmured. 

All  along,  then,  Godensky  had  meant  to  get 
my  promise  and  deceive  me,  for  I  had  not  even 
sent  my  note  of  defiance  when  this  trick  was 
played.  Had  the  treaty  been  missing,  and 
Raoul  disgraced,  Godensky  would  no  doubt  have 
vowed  to  me — if  I'd  lived  to  hear  his  vows — 
that  he  had  had  no  hand  in  the  discovery.  Fear 
of  the  terrible  man  who  had  so  nearly  beaten  me 
in  the  game  made  me  quiver  even  now.  '  You 
see,"  I  went  on,  "  I  can  think  of  nothing  but 
you,  and  my  love  for  you.  You  11  never  be 
jealous  and  make  me  miserable  again,  will 
you,  no  matter  what  Count  Godensky  or  any 
other  wretched  creature  may  say  of  me  to 
you?" 

"  I've  listened  to  Godensky  for  the  last  time," 
said  Raoul.  '  The  dog !  He  shall  never  come 
near  me  again." 

"  I  hardly  think  he  will  try,"  I  said.  "  I'm 
glad  we're  going  to  be  married  soon.  Do  you 
know,  I'm  half  inclined  to  do  as  you've  asked  me 
sometimes,  and  promised  you  wouldn't  ask 
again — leave  the  stage.  I  want  to  rest,  and  just 
be  happy,  like  other  women.  I  want  love — and 
peace — and  you." 

"You  shall  have  all,  and  for  always/* 
answered  Raoul.  "  If  only  I  deserved  you ! " 


816    THE    POWERS   AND    MAXINE 

"  If  only  I  deserved  you  1 "  I  echoed. 

Raoul  would  not  let  me  say  that.  But  he  did 
not  know.  And  I  trust  that  he  never  may;  or 
not  until  a  time,  if  such  a  time  could  come,  that 
he  would  forgive  me  all  things,  because  we  are 
one  in  a  perfect  love. 


THE  END 


NOW  READY  IN    THIS   NEW  SERIES 

A  ROCK  IN  THE  BALTIC,  By  Robert  Barr 

"  A  capital  story  for  a  train  or  any  sort  of  a  journey."— New  York  Sun. 

THE  LADY  EVELYN,  By  Max  Pemberton 

"There  is  not  a  commonplace  or  unexciting  line  In  the  whole  book." — St. 
Louis  Post-Dispatch. 

IKE  MAN  BETWEEN,  By  Amelia  E.  Barr 

"  No  more  startling  story  has  ever  been  written."-  New  York  World. 

REZANOV,  By  Gertrude  Atherton 

"  The  ablest  woman  writer  of  fiction  now  living." — British  Weekly. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  DEFENCE,  By  E.  F.  Benson 

"  Several  years  ago  Mr.  Benson  startled  England  with  his  first  book,  'Dodo.' 
Now  comes  '  The  House  of  Defence,'  more  brilliant,  more  startling."— Philadel- 
phia North  American. 

DOC  GORDON,  By  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman 

"  The  plot  baffles  the  reader's  ingenuity  and  maintains  his  interest  to  the  very 
ead." — North  American,  Philadelphia. 

DANIEL  SWEETLAND,  By  Eden  Phillpotts 

"  A  gem  of  action  writing  —  no  one  who  reads  it  will  forget  it." — Grand  Rttjids 
Herald. 

THE  CHIEF  LEGATEE,  By  Anna  Katharine  Green 

"  A  great  mystery  story  of  New  York,  The  finest  mystery  narratire  «f  its 
s*rt  ever  written."— New  York  World. 

LATTER-DAY  SWEETHEARTS,  By  Mrs.  Burton  Harrison 

Author  of  "THE  ANGLOMANIACS,"  etc. 

"  There  is  a  never-flagging  interest  all  through  the  course  of  this  all-too-brlef 
romance  of  up-to-date  life.  There  is  excitement,  too,  in  plenty,  and  throughout 
that  wondrous  charm  of  originality  in  plot  and  treatment."— Grand  Rapids 
Herald. 


NOW  READY  IN  THIS  NEW  SERIES 

KATE  MEREDITH,  FINANCIER,  By  C.  J.  Cutcliffe  Hyne 

Author  of  "CAPTAIN  KETTLE,"  Etc. 

"  Taken  all  In  all,  '  Kate  Meredith,  Financier,'  is  a  most  extraordinary,  most 
readable  and  altogether  delightful  book— one  that  will  find  a  warm  receptiom 
wherever  primitive  human  nature  and  thrilling  action  are  appreciated."— Balti- 
more American. 


CALEB  CONOVER,  RAILROADER,  By  Albert  Payson  Terhune 

" '  Caleb  Conover  '  is  truly  an  original  character.  His  humor  is  quaint  and 
contagious  and  will  be  remembered  long  after  the  book  has  been  read."—  Wash- 
ingttn  Star. 

GRAHAM  OF  CLAVERHOUSE,  By  Ian  Maclaren 

(The  last  great  novel  of  this  famous  author) 

"We  are  confident  that  the  reader  will  be  pleased  with  it."—  The  New  York 
SUM. 

ALADDIN  OF  LONDON,  By  Max  Pemberton 

"  There  is  mystery  and  sensation  on  every  page."—  Cleveland  News. 


THE  POWERS  AND  MAXINE,  By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  Williamson 

Authors  of  "  THE  LIGHTNING  CONDUCTOR." 

"No  one  will  be  disappointed  who  reads  the  '  Powers  and  Maxine.'  "—Bosttn 
Hertld. 


THE  LOVE  THAT  PREVAILED,  By  F.  Frankfort  Moore 

"  The  Author  of  '  The  Jessamy  Bride  '  gives  a  stirring  and  enthralling  story 
in  his  latest  work, '  The  Love  That  Prevailed.'  "—Chicago  Evening  Post. 


A  ""•""  Hill  Hill  Hill 

°00  040  503 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

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